


The Black of Night

by SowenElf



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cute Kids, Domestic Violence, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 71,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SowenElf/pseuds/SowenElf
Summary: AU: Sydney leaves her violent husband, taking her boys and escaping into the night. Falling on her parents and their lawyers, will they be able to help her get over three years of domestic violence?
Relationships: Sydney Bristow/Michael Vaughn
Comments: 26
Kudos: 4





	1. Another Ditch in the Road

**Author's Note:**

> Personal A/N: A lot of things that are going to be addressed in this fic are based on real situations. There is a lot of domestic violence. I lived through it as a kid and well into my early teens, and this subject hit particularly close to my heart so please be gentle with your reviews and comments. A lot (not everything) that happens in this story happened to my mother and me many years ago.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Domestic violence, some (very little) against children. Just so it gets said, there is absolutely no sexual violence in this fic.

The dark highway stretched out for miles as various signs flew by at breakneck speed. I chanced a brief glance into the backseat where little Noah sat with his hand stretched out toward his older brother. Jake may have a clue as to what's going on; for a four-year-old, he's remarkably astute. He also lived with the violence and verbal abuse for a bit longer than his little two-year-old brother. But my sweet Noah is naive.

_ 'It hadn't always been this way,' _ I tell myself trying desperately to find solace in those words. It was, in part, true. In the beginning, Rick had been so sweet and kind, drawing me to him with gentle yet piercing blue eyes and a calm spirit. The rage only began after he lost his job and couldn't find work.

Along with that came the drinking, and along with the drinking came the arguments. I kept telling myself I could handle it; that no matter what, I'd be fine. He never showed any signs of violence, just – yelling. Which I know, don't say it. I took psychology in high school and college.

_ "Verbal abuse is most often worse than being struck," _ I remember my teacher explaining.

Yeah…right. Chances are people who say that have never been struck. Not by someone you love. Loved – past tense.

But I finally listened to my friends and family. I finally got up enough courage to leave. Well…I wouldn't exactly call it courage. He finally did it - he hit one of the boys. Apparently, that was my limit.

I look back into the mirror and see Noah zonked out and Jake's bright questioning eyes looking at me. He had his own little bruises from where his father had grabbed him and threw him into time-out – not to mention the stripe of red across his cheek as a result of a slap with a belt. Finger shaped spots dotted his little arm, and I have to wonder if waiting all this time to leave has had any damaging or lasting imprints on my kiddos.

I pray that anything that's happened in the initial two years of Noah's life isn't his first memory. Shifting my eyes back to the road, another mile goes by as the bright lights of the city finally disappear behind us.

"Mommy?" Jake's quiet voice broke the silence of the car, and I looked into the rear-view mirror once more.

"Yes, honey?"

"Is daddy gonna get us?" his worried voice breaks my heart. No child should ever fear a parent.

"No, sweetheart. We're going to stay with grandma and papa for a little while."

I thought I saw the faint hint of a smile on his face as he turned to look back out the window.

There wasn't too much to be said other than that. I longed to apologize to him for everything I'd put him through, but he just wouldn't understand. I can help but think that our escape as an apology; as a hopeful gift to my little boys for a brighter future. I can't help but try anything to keep my mind off of the last damn twenty-four hours; nothing was working.

" _ Hey, Becky, how were they?" Sydney put the smile onto her face after reapplying her cover-up in the car and walked into the in-house daycare that Jake and Noah frequented. _

_ She and Becky had gone to school together and had been long-time friends, so when she found out that they lived close to one another – and that she managed a daycare center from her home – she'd asked about prices. Becky, true to her word, said not to worry about it. _

" _ Hey, what are you doing here?" the blonde asked as she lifted up a whimpering toddler and set them to her hip as another clung to her opposite side. _

" _ Ummm, it's Thursday? I dropped my kids off this morning and I'm here to take them home? I mean, if you wanna keep 'em that's fine with me," Sydney grinned until she saw the confusion in her friend's eyes. _

" _ Rick picked 'em up about two hours ago. He said his interview was canceled and so he'd dropped by so you wouldn't have to. What's up? Didn't he call you?" she asked, seeing Syd's eyes go wide. _

" _ No, it's fine. He…he didn't call me. I'll see you tomorrow, okay Becks?" _

_ Without waiting for a reply, she bolted to the car and quickly backed out the driveway. Stopping abruptly in front of the medium-sized townhouse, she ignored the mailbox brimming with bills and went to the front door. Finding it locked, she cursed and fished for her house keys in her messy purse. Rick had never once struck one of the children, but his constant shouting and belittling had reduced them each to tears on more than one occasion. She was satisfied to take the brunt of his occasional slaps if it meant he didn't harm Jake or Noah. _

_ Finally locating them and tossing the door open, an eerily quiet house awaited her. _

" _ Hello?" she called tentatively, knowing that if Rick were sleeping she'd face hell by waking him up. She noticed little Noah sitting at the table quietly, a single car being pushed in front of him. _

" _ Momma," he waved over at her in a quiet voice. _

" _ Where's daddy?" she asked after setting her things down on the end table next to the couch. He pointed up, signifying that his father was indeed sleeping instead of watching the kids. _

" _ Where's Jake?" _

_ He pointed over to the stairs that lead to the basement, and she quickly rushed over to open the door. Thankfully, the light from the sliding glass doors below provided his dark corner with some brightness, but she turned on the overhead bulb anyway. _

_ He flinched, looking back down at his feet, not daring to let his eyes wander up. _

" _ Honey? You okay?" Sydney asked, taking the stairs two at a time to rescue the little boy from a probably unneeded time-out session. _

_ He turned to look up at her and her heart stopped at the long welt across his cheek. It started underneath his left eye and stretched down next to his chin, and instantly her heart broke for her baby. _

" _ Jaky, I need you to tell me what happened," she calmly stroked his hair as he threw himself into her arms. _

" _ I was playing ball with Noah, and it rollded into daddy's worky room. I went to get it an he yellded at me lots," he sobbed, his hand holding his cheek. _

" _ What happened to your face, baby?" she pulled him back, turning his head to the side with gentle hands and examining the raised abrasion more closely. _

" _ He tooked off his pants holder," _

" _ His pants holder?" confusion filled her voice as she racked her brain to try and understand his simple logic. _

_ He merely nodded and pointed to the floor where Rick's belt sat tauntingly. _

_ That's what he'd been looking at this whole time; that's what his father told him to stare at. A rage she'd never felt before rose up and she instantly stood, taking him with her. Stalking into the kitchen, Noah looking up as she set Jake on the bench that served as the chairs for one half of the table, she spoke in a stern voice. "Take your brother outside and play with Sammy please." Jake jumped to put his sibling's shoes on as the toddler poked the welt on the side of his brother's cheek. _

" _ Owie?" _

" _ Don't touch it," the little boy growled, pulling away and helping Noah up before they left through the front door. She made sure their next-door neighbor's eight-year-old had invited them over before taking the stairs two at a time until she reached the bedroom. _

_ Fear lodged into her throat, but it was quickly pushed aside as anger filled her once more. Grabbing the knob and throwing the door open, it crashed into the wall and jarred the sleeping man from his slumber. _

" _ Don't you ever touch them again," she snarled, her face red with rage, the vein in her forehead becoming more pronounced as she pointed her finger threateningly at him. _

" _ Excuse me?" his voice was low and menacing as he stood from the bed and slowly walked toward his wife. _

" _ I don't care what you say to me, or…or if you hit me, but those boys are innocent! If I hear of you hitting them again, either of them, you will find yourself behind bars so quickly it'll blow your mind." She was running on pure adrenaline – and shock – and she was thankful that with the endorphins coursing through her body she barely felt his hand as it connected with her cheek. _

" _ You want me to hit you? Fine," another well-placed smack with the back of his hand split her lip and quickly knocked her to the floor. "You think about that. I'm goin' to get a drink," he spat and walked from the room. _

_ She heard his echoing footsteps, then finally the sound of his keys rattling as he left the house. _

Sydney shuddered as her eyes landed on the large bruise peeking out from underneath her cover-up and the split in her lip she’d been unsuccessful at hiding. Driving through the night until she reached the airport in Vegas, she unloaded the toddler as Jake unbuckled himself and climbed over the console to her open door.

"Baby, don't go too far – wait for mommy."

"I will, momma." True to his word, the little boy waited patiently for his mother.

Managing a still sleeping two-year-old against her shoulder as well as grabbing one large suitcase, she stuck out her pinky to her eldest.

The pitch black of the night was offset by the bustling lights of the bright city, a man standing and waiting for her at the entrance to her terminal.

"Are you Jack Bristow's daughter?" He immediately grabbed the heavy carry-case at her tentative nod, noticing the way the little boy hid behind his mother.

"Assuming you know my father's name and who to ask for, you're Michael Vaughn?"

"Yes, I am."

"My father didn't need to drag you out of bed and across the country to pick me up."

The green-eyed man chuckled, setting her mind at ease. "No, ma'am, it was no problem at all. My father and I are more than willing to help you with your case, so it was my pleasure."

She nodded her head in thanks, though the bags underneath her eyes showed her fatigue. He took a moment to search her eyes and quickly noticed a profound sadness permeating through her gaze.

Silently walking her and the children to the private plane, he stored their items and gave the go-ahead to the pilot.

The silence was nearly palpable, only the soft words flowing from Sydney's mouth as she tucked Noah into one of the couches; a scratchy blue blanket covering his little body as an over-fluffed pillow propped up his head.

"Do you like to color?" Michael's voice pulled her focus to the other side of the plane where Jake was watching the plane taxi out of Las Vegas.

The timid little boy nodded, looking over at Sydney for permission, to which she agreed quickly. Vaughn smiled, pulling out a small coloring book from his carry-on and a handful of colorful crayons. Setting them on the table, he patiently waited for the little boy to approach him. He'd been entrusted with the safety of his father's biggest client, and he was going to make sure that Sydney and her sons trusted him – to some extent.

Jake approached the man slowly, glancing over and waiting for Sydney to oppose at any minute.

"Why don't you sit up here and buckle up that seat belt, big guy. You wouldn't want to slide around while we're taking off, would you?"

A shy negative shake of the head was his answer as he climbed up onto the bench and picked up two buckles. Unfortunately, they weren't compatible with one another and wouldn't click.

"Here, let me help." Michael reached out automatically, the child flinching back against his seat. Never in his life had he scared a kid, and though he knew it wasn't actually because of him, the fear in the boy's blue eyes made him pull back quickly.

"Or…let's have your mommy do it; I'm sorry, big guy."

Sydney flashed him a small smile, moving across the fuselage and kneeling down in front of the four-year-old. "Hey, little roo, it's okay. This is Mr. Vaughn, and he's taking us to grandma and papa. He didn't mean to scare you."

"Do you like him?"

"I trust your papa to send a good guy," she countered, not bringing up the fact that she wasn't in a trusting mood at the moment.

"Okay. Can I still color?" his voice was quiet, looking between the man and his mother.

"Of course you can. In a little bit, I'm gonna put you in pajamas and want you to get some sleep, okay?"

Jake nodded, Sydney pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Look…why don't you get some rest? He'll color for a bit, I've got a good book, and…you look like you need it."

"Can I speak with you...alone for a moment?" Her voice was almost commanding, but the fact that she wasn't able to look him straight in the eye made her still somewhat insecure about ordering Vaughn around.

Michael nodded and rose, sending the attentive Jake a reassuring wink before following the frazzled and unsure young woman to the back of the plane. "I...I didn't mean to spook him, I really didn't-"

"Stop. It had nothing to do with you at all, it's...it's his father. I have nothing against you Mr. Vaughn, you seem nice and all, but my family isn't exactly trusting at the moment. I don't mean to be rude, but there's no way I'm going to take my eyes off of my boys. Please understand that."

Leaving him in his shocked position at the rear of the plane, she moved back up to sit nervously on the edge of the cough where baby Noah was sleeping. Silently chewing on her thumbnail, she watched Jake color.

Michael retook his seat, in awe of the woman across the fuselage as he lifted his book, pretending to read.

**...**


	2. Reckoning

Sydney sighed, trying to erect a wall around her emotions as Vaughn rang the doorbell to her father's large home. Though it was night and the only light permeating the darkness was shining over the porch, she could almost see by memory the beautiful rolling landscape surrounding the property.

The door flung open and the internal light spilled onto the porch forcing her attention back up and into the gentle eyes of her father.

"Papa!" Noah shrieked, struggling his way out of Sydney's arms and attacking the elder man's leg - Jake doing the same on the other.

Jack Bristow gave them each a rich smile, passing one to his daughter before shaking Vaughn's hand and thanking him in a low voice. Michael tossed a nod in her direction before disappearing into the blackness of the driveway, the revving of an engine the only sound from his departure.

"Come in...your mother is waiting for you in the kitchen."

"But the boys need-"

"Yes...they need to get to bed. I'll take care of it." Cupping her cheek and brushing a kiss to her forehead, "I'm glad you're okay. We're going to take care of everything."

Working as hard as she could to keep up the walls she'd constructed on the front porch, though she was bound and sure that they would crumble the first moment her mother laid eyes on her. She blinked back the tears, watching Jack lift both of the children into his arms and carry them up the large staircase as she made her way toward the lit dining area.

Walking into the kitchen, she spotted her mother making tea at the stove while slicing up some sandwiches.

"Mom?" Sydney's voice was broken, and when Laura turned with tear streaks down her own cheeks, her daughter broke completely.

Rushing around the kitchen's island, mother enveloped daughter in a fit of sobbing, Laura pulling back to study the bluish-purple abrasions marring Sydney's skin.

"We told you to leave him, Sydney!"

"I know," she sobbed.

"Why did you wait until now?" Her grasp of the young woman's cheeks was getting stronger, the maternal Bristow nearly shaking her with each word.

Unable to answer, Sydney merely fell into her mother's embrace and cried out her sadness, anger, and disappointment into her shoulder. A tiny voice from the kitchen's entryway made them break apart slowly, Sydney quickly wiping at her cheeks as she spotted her two-year-old. He looked even smaller with the blue footie pajamas on, his huge, soul-searching blue eyes staring her down.

"Hugs, momma?"

Jack appeared behind him, hefting him up gently with a bit of tickling to his ribs.

"The boys wanted you to tuck them in if you can."

Not trusting her voice, Sydney moved from the kitchen and traded spots with her father, Noah pushing his face into her neck and sticking his thumb into his mouth.

"As painful as it is for me to see her like that…I'm glad it finally got to be too much for her," Jack stated as he and his wife watched until son and daughter disappeared up the steps.

Laura turned to peer up at her husband, brimming tears beginning tumbling. "Please tell me that you and Bill are going to take care of Rick? Please? He deserves to rot for what he's done to our little girl."

Jack's answer was silence as he steered his wife to the kitchen table. The teapot whistled its frustration as the water inside boiled, steam erupting from the spout as Laura pushed herself up to prepare the small, late dinner as they waited for Sydney to return.

**…**

"Momma?"

"Yes, Noah?"

"Daddy?"

"No, baby; daddy…daddy isn't coming. We're probably not going to see daddy for a long time."

"Owie." He reached his tiny hand up and poked at the bruise and cut on his mother’s lip.

Sydney winced but pushed it away, Jake watching her from his own small bed across the room. "I'm sorry my boys, I am so sorry that daddy wasn't nice to you.”

"Mommy, when can we go home?" Jake's simple question was probably the hardest she'd ever been asked.

"I don't – umm…I don't think we'll be able to go back home, sweetie."

"Can we get a new house?" He followed through, Sydney slightly relieved that he took the prospect of never seeing his things again so well.

"With puppies?!" Noah sat up quickly, a large beaming smile on his face as Sydney laughed.

Jake saw the tension slowly begin to fade away from his mother's demeanor as she laughed along with his little brother.

"We'll talk about it. It's bedtime you two, we've had - a long week." Placing a kiss to each of their foreheads, lingering on her eldest son to check the long bruise the welt had turned into on his face. "Does it hurt really bad sweetie?"

"A little bit,"

"I'll get you something for it, I'm sure papa has something that will help. I'll be right back,"

He nodded and snuggled down into his pillow, Sydney checking one more time on a now slumbering Noah before flipping on the nightlight and leaving the room. She walked slowly down the wide hallway, pictures lining each side of all major family events. As an only child, most of them were of her accomplishments, but there were some that recounted her parents’ life, as well as her grandparents – before they had died.

One of her mom and dad standing in the foreground while a gorgeous piece of land lay stretched behind them. The picture directly below it shows them in the same exact position on the same spot with the large family home finally constructed behind them in a before and after glimpse.

There was a large one of her father sitting at his desk inside his Practice, the white lab coat and name tag each saying Dr. Jonathan D. Bristow.

There was every school picture of her from her kindergarten up through college graduation in a long line on the opposite wall, Sydney smiling at the changes in herself through time as she continued to take the trip down memory lane while moving farther down the hallway.

Stopping at one of her favorites, she picked it up and gently cradled it in one hand, the other tracing the radiant faces of her parents on their wedding day. Flicking her gaze over to the immediate right, the nostalgic smile quickly disappeared. Gently hanging the beloved wedding photo back onto its designated hook, she fingered the ornate wood framing the photo of her own wedding day.

She stood in Rick's arms, the flowing white dress her mother had made wafting around her legs. Her hair was styled atop her head with beautiful curls escaping from the bun on both sides, a large bouquet of tulips and sunflowers topping off the beautiful outdoor scene.

Rick looked strong and handsome in his black tuxedo, his eyes shining with a love and devotion she hadn't seen for over two years. Her own face held an abounding glow of care and tenderness as she leaned into his shoulder, their wedding bands shining in the light. Suddenly, the weight of the gold around her finger felt heavy and weighted, as if the brunt of her marriage was pressing not on her shoulders but on her left hand.

Her vision clouded…words of anger, hate, and betrayal beginning to filter into her happiest of thoughts. As she stared into the photograph, it seemed to taunt her with the blissful surroundings, the bright sun shining down on them in her parent's large garden. Everything began to get darker…even Rick himself began to change.

A muffled sob tore from her throat as she lifted the picture gingerly off its nail, the deep, decorated wood and polished glass heavy in her hands.

_ 'This picture is fake…it…it hasn't been like that since that day,' _ she thought, her hands closing tight around the edges until her knuckles turned white.  _ 'All of it was a lie.' _

Turning suddenly, she hurled the memory against the far wall, the glass shattering noisily as she sunk to the floor of the hallway atop the ornate rug.

The tinkling sound of breaking glass made Jack and Laura run to the staircase, the sound of their daughter's wrenching cries making them take the two flights of stairs two at a time.

Dropping on his knees before his broken daughter, Jack engulfed her into his arms as she willingly cried into his chest. Their eyes scanned the hallway, seeing the discarded photograph lying amidst the sparkling clear rubble as the bedroom door to the left opened. Two frightened sets of eyes peeked out into the brightly lit hall, Jake holding onto Noah's hand as Laura quickly ushered them back into their room and closed the door behind her.

"What happened to mommy?" Jake asked, fighting against his grandmother's attempts at putting him back to bed.

"Your mommy was looking at a picture and she dropped it, it's no reason for you to be out of bed. Hop back in," her voice was soft yet commanding, and little Noah tugged on her pant leg to claim her attention.

"Me too?" he asked, pointing to the fluffy bed his older brother was climbing into.

The grandmother smiled and nodded, picking up and coddling the tiny boy before settling him in with his brother. "You boys go to sleep, okay? Your mommy will take good, good care of you."

"Who will take care of mommy?" Jake queried, curious about who would be looking out for his mother without his own daddy around.

"I will."

"Papa too?"

"Of course. Now…sleep time, darlings." She sat on the edge of the bed with them both, waiting and watching for them to fall back to sleep.

In the hallway, Sydney's crying had lessened and she'd more or less gone limp in her father's arms. He had tipped back onto his heels, pulling her with him until she'd nearly crawled up onto his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"I…I can't presume to tell you that you waited too long, or long enough, to leave him Sydney…or that it'll get easier now that you are no longer in that environment. It won't be easy – on your or on the children, but that's what your mother and I are here for." Pulling her back and cupping her swollen and red cheeks in his large, callused hands, he couldn't help but notice again the bruises marring her pale face. "Why don't you just get to bed, and we'll deal with everything tomorrow? I'm going to give you something to help you sleep soundly because you're far too much like me in the respect that I know you'll stew all night over this." He tossed out a brief smile, his eyes still holding ample amounts of sympathy for his little girl.

"Daddy…I don't know what to do."

"I said we'll figure it out tomorrow. Come on," he ordered, his voice demanding her cooperation as he stood, pulling her with him. Securing an arm around her shoulders, they awkwardly walked down the steps and back into the kitchen, her mother's sandwiches and tea long forgotten from the disruption upstairs.

Sydney took a seat, lifting her paper napkin and wiping at the wetness of her cheeks before regarding her father with doe-like brown eyes. "Why does it hurt so much, dad? He…he doesn't really love me…and I don't have – have any desire to be with him af – after what he did to us," she paused, wiping her nose and blowing lightly into the napkin, "but why can't my anger and hate make the pain go away?"

For once, Dr. Jack Bristow was at a loss. He'd taken dozens of classes in Psychological Counseling; faced patients that had been in his daughter's situation; encountered the same questions from people that had been traumatically emotionally hurt – but he had no answer for the broken woman before him. Nothing was coming to mind.

"I…I think love is the emotion that bears the most understanding…but yet – we don't understand how comprehensive it is. Unconditional love I suppose can blind you from seeing who and what a person truly is or isn't."

"I'm not one of your patient’s dad, you don't have to be so scientific. It…it was more rhetorical than anything," she mustered up a small smile, wiping at the fresh tears on her cheeks as Jack let out a relieved chuckle.

Leaning across the table and pressing a kiss into her forehead, he left her alone in search of a sleep aid. Sydney looked over at the clock seeing that it was just after three in the morning. She jumped as her back pocket vibrated, her cell phone chirping loudly in the silent kitchen.

Pulling it out of her pocket and looking at the screen, her heart plummeted into her stomach as her mother walked in. Seeing the sudden pallor of her daughter's face, "sweetie, are you okay? What is it?"

Sydney's phone continued to ring, her thumb hovering over the keypad.

"It's, Rick."

**…**


	3. Only If

"It's Rick," she said quietly, Jack walking back into the room with a bottle in his hand, his ears catching her sentence.

"Don't answer it."

"Dad, he at least deserves to know what my decision is."

* **Ring Ring** *

"You don't owe him a  _ thing,  _ Sydney Anne." Laura groused, both parents standing around her with bated breath as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for hours!" His voice was elevated, as she knew it would be, and she ran a hand through her already disheveled hair in attempts to quell her rising emotions.

Swallowing, "I'm not coming home."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Listen." her voice began to waver, tears flooding her vision. "I - I’m leaving you."

"What? No… Sydney – I know things have been tough lately, but it'll get better! I got that job…it'll be less crazy now." The change in his voice - sadness mixing with anger and disbelief - made her wince against how instantly pitiful it became.

"No, Rick. You – hurt me…and the boys. I'll never be able to forgive you for that."

"I can change-"

She interrupted him, anger seeping into her voice. "You  _ did  _ change. I'll have the papers sent to you by the end of the week."

Sydney hung up as her voice began to break. Managing to drop her cell to the kitchen counter next to her elbows, she slumped over and rested her face in her hands to muffle a small sob as Laura moved forward to envelop her into her arms.

"I…I just wish I would stop crying for him." Though it took a great amount of deciphering on her parent’s part to understand what her strained and watery words had been, her father shook his head.

"No, Sydney, you're not crying for him – or over him. You're crying for yourself, sweetheart; which is a good start. Now…take these pills and get to bed, it's been much too long of a day." Jack placed two, little blue pills in front of her, leaving only to fill a glass of water.

Laura stroked her daughter's hair while sending her husband a curious glance, Sydney drinking down the pills and offering them both a delicate goodnight as well as a hug and a kiss. Disappearing around the corner and up the stairs, Laura finally turned sly eyes up to jack.

"What did you give her?"

"Let's just say that she'll have no problem getting to sleep tonight."

"Jack! You sedated your own daughter!" The laughter in Laura's voice was exactly what her husband needed to hear, and he chuckled along with her.

"She'll be out most of tomorrow as well, so we should get some sleep. We're babysitting."

After turning the lights out and making sure everything was locked and secure, the couple made their way upstairs for the night.

…

Sydney woke in a groggy haze, looking out through the window to see an absence of sunlight in the starry sky beyond the backyard.

_ 'Figures that when I finally  _ **_can_ ** _ sleep...I don't,' _ she thought with a tired mental chuckle.

Gathering herself up out of the bed, her legs feeling unusually heavy and waterlogged, she peeked out into the hallway. Silence greeted her along with a dim hall light, and she couldn't help but look to the floor and note the lack of broken glass. The hallway now sported one less photograph and Sydney was mentally and physically thankful that she had her parents to fall back on.

Making her way slowly down the steps, faint voices wafted through the large living room. Peeking at her wrist, she realized that she'd left her watch on the nightstand at home.  _ 'Another thing I'll need to buy brand new.' _

Straightening her rumpled pajama bottoms and maroon camisole, she made her way with a yawn over to her father's office, the slightly opened doorway sending a sliver of orange-yellow light onto the dark, cold wooden floor at her feet.

"I know Bill, but this isn't just another case that I'm referring to you - this is my daughter and I've got to have the proper papers here by tomorrow morning. [Pause] Yes...I realize how much work that's going to take - but I'm more than willing to help you and Michael get everything typed up. [Pause] No...I don't want Sydney involved yet. She's got enough on her mind right now without sitting in a room with a bunch of men recounting some of the most painful memories of her life. [Pause] Okay then, tomorrow."

Feeling slightly ashamed at eavesdropping on a partial conversation about herself, she knocked quietly on the door of the study before walking in and her father sitting amidst dozens of books with pens and paper filling nearly every available surface.

"Ah, Sydney, come in." Starting the conversation, he sat back in his plush chair taking his glasses off as his fingers rubbed at his sore, strained eyes.

Flashing a dimpled smile she made her way farther into the library-esque office, climbing into the seat across from the desk with a sigh, pulling her knees up to her chest. Jack regarded her with caring yet concerned eyes.

"I…I didn't scare the boys too badly, did I?"

"Oh, they were just fine. Your mother took care of them. We put them to be a half-hour ago since we weren't quite sure what time you usually do it."

He smiled gently at the confusion in her brown eyes, "Wait, what? What time is it?"

"A quarter 'till nine. You've slept for nearly eighteen hours, Sydney, I was beginning to wonder if you were planning on sleeping for the rest of the month."

"Wow…"

Pausing with bright eyes, she placed her hand against her forehead before smoothing her hair back. "So I take it the pills you gave me weren't Tylenol PM®?"

Jack laughed, pleased to see his daughter in higher spirits than the night before. They lapsed into a period of comfortable silence, Sydney's eyes glazing over with a faraway look as Jack watched her, a slideshow of moments in her life flashing behind his hooded gaze.

"Thanks, dad," she whispered, tears building at the corners of her eyes as she feigned interest in a string on the leg of her pants. "For everything, I mean. For…for taking care of the boys today," pausing with a sniffle, she wiped at her nose before continuing, "and for taking care of me last night. I just…I'm  _ so  _ confused about  _ so  _ many things – I don't know what to do. I mean…two days ago my life was hell but I was in such a great position outside the house. I had a job I really liked; Jake had a school with friends, and now it's all – topsy-turvy. I just don't know what to make of it. Where's Jake gonna go to school now? He has to finish out this semester or he'll be held back a grade – and he's too smart for that; didn't do anything to deserve that," another pause as she gladly accepted the tissue box Jack slid her direction.

"Not to mention what I'm going to do about supporting them. I don't have a job, dad, and I'm sure that they can find a permanent substitute for the year, but all of my kids – God…it was such a great school!"

Her father inwardly smiled, quickly noting that his little girl was fast moving on to the venting stage of her newest changes in life; the stage where the questions outnumber the answers.

"We'll figure it out, sweetheart. I took the liberty of calling the school early this morning and informing them of your situation – though omitting several of the details – and your principal was extremely understanding. She sounded very sorry to hear that you were leaving them, and passed on her condolences to you and the kids. She wanted me to tell you that Gary Robinson was going to break your class up into two groups and have them inserted into his alternating periods."

Nodding in understanding, Sydney was silent once more as she gnawed at her lip, an ever-flowing tide of tears unceasing in their journey down her swollen cheeks.

"What are you thinking?" Prodding, though he knew that Bristow women were immune to nagging, prodding, and goading, he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

She began, resting her chin atop her knee as she hugged her legs close, "I just wish that everything could be erased. Every wrong decision I'd ever made; every bad thought I ever had while sitting in Sunday School in the church down the street when I was a kid – all of it."

"That wouldn't change the outcome of anything, Sydney. How Rick turned wasn't a bad decision made by you – he made the choice to become that person, with or without your permission-"

"I know, I know, but I can't help but think that if I'd never let him do it; if I'd never let him raise his voice in anger that he never would have thought to raise his fist, you know? I pray…and pray that something g-good can come of this…but I can't honestly believe that…that a single good thing can ever happen to me again. I – I just feel …broken."

Jack nodded, wheeling his chair over to where his daughter sat crying into her lap. Setting a hand to hers, her fingers instantly wrapping around his, he let her sob her fill until it was quiet in the room once more.

"Let me tell you a story. This used to work on you when you were little…so I'm hoping against hope that it'll work now. 'A doe, blind in one eye, was used to grazing as near to the edge of a sea cliff as she possibly could, in the hope of securing her greater safety. She turned her one working eye towards the land that she might get the earliest tidings of the approach of hunter or hound, and her injured eye towards the sea, where she anticipated no danger. Some boatmen sailing by saw her, and taking a successful aim, mortally wounded her. Yielding up her last breath, she gasped forth this lament: "O wretched creature that I am! To take such precaution against the land only to find this seashore, to which I had come for safety, so much more perilous.'"

The soothing voice in which he'd retold the old Fable was indeed relaxing, though the message he pronounced was the underlying current that had snagged her feet like the riptide of the ocean. "So…what are you saying? I was blind in both eyes?"

"I'm saying that it was impossible to steal yourself away from something you couldn't see coming. That was the doe's problem – she'd viewed the world as a dangerous place; thus, she tried to protect herself from it by staying as far away from it as she could. Sometimes…your safest place can be where you find the most danger. Sometimes…you need to find a new safe place. It's no one's fault, and certainly not your own. What's done is done, only now – you're no longer blind…you can almost see too well."

Knowing inside that her father was right, a surprising sense of calm washed over her – her tears ending. Jack gave her hand one last squeeze and rolled back to his desk, sliding his glasses on as her gentle voice wafted over to him. "Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't hear you."

"I said…I feel safe here."

"This house will always be a safe place for you and the boys. Always."

"So…what are we going to do now?" Diverting the subject, she offered up the largest question in her arsenal.

Jack removed his glasses once more, looking off at the far wall deep in thought. "Honestly…I'm waiting and expecting Rick here at the house. Not that I believe he'll be a danger against you or the boys – quite the opposite actually. His way of getting power over his crumbling life was physically seeking to control you and the children by resorting to violence. Believe it or not, Sydney, but control is fully in your hands now and he knows this. If he does show up, I doubt his first act will be one of aggression."

"That'll be the pot calling the kettle black. So…what are we gonna do?"

"I'll handle everything, if and when that occurs. I don't want you to deal with him at all. Tomorrow morning I've got Bill – my lawyer – and his son Michael coming in to finish up the paperwork on the divorce papers. You remember Michael, right? He escorted you on the plane over."

Her nod was her only answer. "Good. We'll take care of everything, and when it comes time for you to sign the papers and read over them, I'll let you know. Other than that, take the boys out. Let them get back into the swing of doing something normal. You need it yourself."

"What if Rick doesn't come here? What if he comes looking somewhere else?" The worry was evident in her voice and Jack sent her a reassuring smile.

"Then I can send Michael out with you and the kids while Bill and I figure out the paperwork."

Sydney sighed, shaking her head, "Can't you send mom? He's got better things to do with his time than babysit a battered wife and two kids."

"Sydney, he said he'd be more than happy to help, and – quite frankly – I'd like to know that you are safe while you're out. Think of it as royal treatment and your own bodyguard."

She huffed but complied, her stomach growling as a knock echoed through the quiet room. Laura poked her head in, surprised to see Sydney up as she walked in with a single sandwich on a tray, a glass of milk sloshing back and forth without spilling as she walked. "I didn't know you were awake, sweetie. How are you feeling?"

"Better; thanks, mom." Sydney suddenly felt like she was six years old again with a cold.

"I can make you something if you'd like,"

"That'd be great, I'm starving. I'll come with you." Slowing climbing out of her cocooned position in the plush chair, she turned to her dad with a thankful smile. "Thanks, dad. You and mom are the only way I'm going to get through this alive."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Go…have some dinner."

Sydney leaned over and placed a kiss to the top of his head before walking slowly out of the room, hearing her mother clambering around in the kitchen. Entering the bright room, she squinted from the change of firelight to light-bulb in an effort to adjust.

"Here you go, honey, heat up what you'd like. It's pot roast from dinner, with mashed potatoes, carrots, and corn."

Maneuvering into the kitchen, she dished up a plate full of food, popped it into the microwave, and covered it before hitting the button for two minutes. Grabbing a soda from the fridge before joining her mom at the bar-like counter, she shrugged her shoulders with a sigh.

"It'll get better, Sydney, I promise."

The microwave beeped as a small voice from the entrance called out: "mommy!" Jake ran to his mother, Sydney instantly pulling him up onto her lap as her dinner was forgotten. "I missed you tons, momma!" Burrowing as far as he could under her shoulder, she smiled with misty eyes and hugged him close.

"We didn't have any fun wiffout you, momma, did we gramma?"

"Oh I don't know, we got to feed the animals and water the garden. Are you saying that I don't know how to have fun little boy?" Laura stuck a finger in his ribs as he laughed, gripping onto his mother's hand.

"Did you sleep good?"

Sydney laughed at his innocent question, taking a moment to look clearly at the mark along his cheek. "I slept fine, roo. How's your cheek?"

"Hurts when you poke it."

"Well, I'll stop pokin' it. How's your brother?" Standing up and setting him down in her vacated chair, she moved over to the microwave to grab the plate and they all converged at the dining table, Jake sitting on her lap once more as she ate.

"He tripped today and got an owie on his knee, but gramma kissded it and made it all better." Slipping his hand up and taking one of her carrots, he munched it as it cooled with a contented face.

"What are you doing up?" Jack asked as he walked into the kitchen, empty plate and glass in hand.

"I got up to get a drink, and found my mommy!"

They chatted in the kitchen until Sydney finished her dinner, allowing Jake to stay up with them before Jack and Laura promptly sent the two of them off to bed.

"Mommy, will you lay wiff me until I fall asleep?" the boy asked as she tucked him into the cool, disheveled bed.

Nodding with a sweet smile, they curled up together under the covers. Sydney was jolted awake by a tugging at her arm, not realizing she'd even fallen asleep. Turning to see bright eyes and a sniffling nose, she pulled Noah up onto the already overstuffed bed. He snuggled down in-between his brother and mother, his thumb going immediately to his mouth as his eyes closed - safe in Sydney's arms.

"Tomorrow will be better my boys; tomorrow will be better."

**…**


	4. Stuff, Junk, and Whatnot

Sydney sat in awkward silence as the boys chattered around her, the younger of the Vaughn's sitting across from her fiddling with a large gold coin. She didn't feel like talking – the morning meeting in her father's office with the two lawyers giving her little hope for a quick divorce – so she stayed relatively quiet as her mind raced with possibilities. Michael could sense her detachment from their surroundings, so focused himself on watching over the boys and keeping an eye out around them. He was more comfortable since he'd changed out of his suit and tie into a t-shirt and blue jeans, tapping his foot as he scanned the people sitting around them.

Their food soon arrived, Sydney brightening up at the squeals of delight from her children as apple slices and a corn dog appeared for Noah, and potato chips and a turkey sandwich for Jake.

"Mommy…what'er we gonna do today?" Jake questioned, a mouth full of his first bite.

"I don't know roo, we're just going to have to play it by ear."

Confused looks passed over their faces, Sydney realizing that she'd probably said something they didn’t understand. "What I meant was do whatever we want to do."

"Park?" Little Noah brightened up even more as he tried to maneuver the long corn-bread coated hot dog on a stick, the item slipping from his small hands and tumbling toward the floor.

Vaughn's swift hand caught it before it fell to the sidewalk, returning it to the boy's plate. "Why don't we cut this up for you? It'll make it a bit easier." Noah nodded, smiling at the stranger.

"Good catch," Sydney grinned, surprised to see Noah warm up to the younger Vaughn so quickly. Jake still eyed the man with caution, but not naïve little Noah. He was intent on making friends with everyone.

Once the corn dog was cut into three or four pieces, the meal commenced. As lunch wore on, Sydney began to slowly creep out of her shell. She wasn't used to a normal afternoon, and as she laughed at a quip from Michael she began to relax. Noah was beginning to nod off into his ketchup, Sydney grinning and maneuvering to pick up her son and settle him into her lap for a short nap.

"He passed out quick,"

"I don't know how he does it. As soon as food hits his stomach he's out like a light." Rubbing his back in smooth circles, Sydney placed a loving kiss to the top of his head as Jake finished his chips and pushed his plate away.

"Can we go, momma?"

"Where do you want to go, honey? You're brother's gonna be out for a while, so let's just do whatever you want to do." Seeing the surprise on his face, she ruffled his hair with dimpled cheeks.

"Can we go to the nuzeeum? I 'member when Papa tooked us there. There were lions, and tigers, and dinosaurs!"

"Oh my," Michael finished the classic movie line, earning another laugh from Sydney's lips.  _ 'It's a beautiful laugh. Good to see that she's a lot better now than on the plane. She never deserved any of this…I can just tell. Lawyer's instinct.' _

"The museum it is." She started to clean up their table as Michael broke his moment of silence with a shake of his head before grabbing the plates from her hands with a disarming smile.

"I'll do this, you get them in the car. I'll drive to the museum."

"Michael, no. It's all the way in the city, you don't have to do this."

"Hey, I promised your dad that I'd keep you safe. Plus…I used to work security in the museum to get through Law School and I still have contacts. I'll be able to get you into all the secret places."

"Secrets?" Jake asked quietly, still terribly shy about trusting the man in front of him.

"Oh yeah. I can get you behind the scenes and you'll get to touch real dinosaur bones, and maybe even see some of the live animals they have. Snakes, spiders, lizards, stuff like that." Michael squatted down in front of the little boy as he hid close to Sydney's legs.

"Cool." His whispered exclamation made Vaughn smile, standing as they walked toward the Bristow's sedan, speeding off toward the American Museum of Nature History.

**…**

"Now this is a big place, okay?" Sydney crouched down in front of a wide-eyed Jake, unable to wipe the smile from his face at the large glass entrance where a huge room filled with the sun and planets of the solar system hung in mock orbit. "Hey you, look right here." Pointing to her eyes, she gathered his attention with a grin. "I need you to stay with Michael and me at all times, understand? What happens if you get lost or we get separated?"

"I find a policeman."

"And what if there isn't a policeman?"

"I find a worker of the nuzeeum, and he'll taked me to the lost and found."

Nodding as she tucked his small hand into hers, Michael pushed the stroller where a still sleeping Noah lay under a warm blanket. They walked into the large archway underneath the glass structure, dozens of people going back and forth along the sidewalk. The inside of the museum was bustling, and Sydney knew that Noah's nap would probably be short-lived.

"Okay, you guys wait right here and I'll go get us some passes." Michael smiled, setting his hand to the small of Sydney's back and ruffling Jake's hair as he turned and made his way to a hall marked 'SECURITY'. Jake sent the man an honest smile before looking back up at his mother.

"He's not like daddy."

"I know, he's nice isn't he?"

"Can he be my new daddy? My daddy never tooked us to the nuzeeum at home."

Sydney looked sadly down at the little boy, the fading mark on his cheek as she shook her head at his innocent words. "No sweetie, he's just going to be a friend."

He nodded as he wiggled from foot to foot, eager to get into the museum to see everything he could see and touch whatever he was allowed to touch. Michael returned after a few minutes with four laminated badges that simply said 'VISITOR' with the date below it.

"Here you go, Syd, and here's one for Noah." Handing Jake his own name tag as Sydney bent down to pin Noah’s to the fabric of the stroller, Michael cautioned the toddler. "Be careful with that buddy, you might want your mom to help you so you don't get poked."

"Can you help me?" Reaching up and holding out the badge, his large blue eyes sparkling as he trusted Michael to get close to him.

Crouching with a smile, Michael bunched up a small piece of the boy's shirt and stuck the pin through the material. "There you go, all done."

After making sure they were official, Michael and Sydney pinning the badges to the bottom hem of their shirts, they were off. Walking the first floor, spending ample time in the Space Science halls next to the entrance, Michael and Sydney took turns reading the signs and text for the exhibits to the eager little boy, making sure he pointed out several of his letters and numbers as they went.

Moving from space into the wilderness, they entered the North American Mammals, Noah making himself known as he sat up and pointed to a large gray wolf saying, "puppy!"

They continued on, both little boys gasping in wonder as they entered the Ocean Life exhibitions. A 94-foot long model of a life-size Blue Whale hung from the ceiling as though it were swimming through the huge ornate room.

"Momma, can we go see the dinosaurs?" Jake tugged her arm, disappointed when she suggested they look at everything else and save the best for last.

"Actually, there's a huge dinosaur right above us, so why don't we go upstairs?" Michael suggested, seeing both little boys’ eyes light up. "We can look at that one and then look at the rest of the dinosaurs after we've seen everything else. Does that work?"

"Yay!" Two little voices cried, several people around the small group looking over with sweet smiles. Noah reached up to Michael with both arms, clasping and unclasping his hands in an unspoken request to be picked up and carried.

"Noah, that's not how we ask for something."

"Up peeze?"

Michael quickly lifted him up, setting him naturally on his hip as the little boy clung to the front of his shirt with a small fist. Taking the elevator with half a dozen more people, they made their way into what was labeled the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Hall, in the center of the room was a stunning display of a long-necked dinosaur rearing up onto its back legs as it was being attacked by two meat-eating dinosaurs.

"Oooh… wassat?" Noah pointed with a small chubby finger, Michael looking down and reading the sign in front of him aloud, Jake pushing up against him so he could hear.

"This long-neck is called  _ Barosaurus _ , and it was as long as two school buses. See the long neck and tail?" As two little nods, he continues. "The sharp-toothed dinosaurs are  _ Allosaurus _ , and they're hungry. That's a lot of dinosaur for them to eat, isn't it?"

Sydney sat back, slightly amazed at how well the boys were doing with Michael, and how beautifully he himself was handling the two boys. His words were always gentle and never loud, even when he was talking to her.  _ 'I wonder how many battered family cases he's had to work,' _ she thought, leaning against the stroller as she watched her sons interact with their new friend.

After leaving the dinosaurs with a wave from Noah and a laugh from the adults, they made their way through the first floor, bypassing many of the adult-oriented exhibits in favor of entertaining the two little boys. Noah had made his way from Michael's arm onto his shoulders, clinging to his forehead with a huge smile as Jake decided to walk next to his mother, his hand holding hers to 'help' push the empty stroller.

"Where we goin' now?"

"Let's look around this floor before going up again."

"There's more than this?!" he exclaimed, clapping his little hands as Noah hoorayed from his perch on Michael's shoulders.

They wandered the crowded hallways, stopping to look at the African mammals in the center before finding a new exhibit called the Butterfly Conservatory. Stepping into a closed-off room, they followed a winding path leading through an ambient rainforest; Jake was the first one to point out a large butterfly flitting from leaf to leaf.

They spent almost an hour looking at the butterflies, a volunteer assisting them as she pointed out all of the parts of the creature to the children, Noah amazed as a butterfly landed on his tiny hand. He stared at it for a minute or so before it took back to the air.

"Buhfly, momma, buhfly!" he giggled, Sydney smiling and hugging him close as they left the flying insects and went back to the main part of the museum.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting tired. What say we go look at the dinosaurs and then head home?" A yawn from Jake and a nod from Noah was her answer as they headed up to the top floor. After gawking at the many dinosaurs the museum showed, spending most of their time at yet another long-necked dinosaur which seemed to be their favorite, they headed back out to the car. Sydney had picked Jake up halfway through the museum as they stopped by the security office to drop off their badges.

By the time they got to the car both of the children were sound asleep and Sydney was halfway there. Michael opted to drive back to the Bristow family home and she acquiesced before quickly falling asleep in the front seat of the car.

"Umm…Mr. Bristow?" Vaughn called into the foyer of the home, seeing Laura poke her head out of the kitchen.

"Well, there you are. We were beginning to lose hope of ever seeing you again. Where's the brood you left with?"

"They're all asleep in the car and I wanted some help carrying them in."

Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she followed him outside and spotted the sleeping family in the car. Unbuckling Noah from his car seat, Laura carried him in first and took him up to his room, Vaughn following with Jake tucked against his chest. They made their way back outside as they stopped to watch Sydney sleep.

"What do you think, should we wake her? She's had a long day and a rough week."  _ 'Or a rough three years, whichever comes first.' _

"Well, I'll leave it up to you. I can't carry her in, I'd drop her down the stairs." Laura laughed and moved to hold the door open as Michael opened the front door and unbuckled the young mother. Reaching an arm under her legs he pulled her against his chest, her arm automatically wrapping around his neck as she cuddled her cheek into his shoulder.

Climbing the steps with her mother on his heels, he took her to the spare room across from the boys and gently laid her on the bed. After brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Laura invited him down for some iced tea, and they made their way into the kitchen.

"Michael, you're a good boy, I know that. But I also know that you get too close to a lot of your cases due to the people you choose to help. My daughter can't be one of those cases."

"What do you mean, 'get too close'?" He asked, slightly defensive.

"You’re trying to make everything in her life better, which we appreciate, but she needs more time before getting into anything."

"Whoa, whoa…you're not…oh, Mrs. Bristow, you know I could never get involved like that with a client. I try not to help too much, but it's tough. I see how much they're hurting and I just want to do everything I can to make the pain go away. But I would never get romantically involved with one of my clients – I swear to you – least of all your daughter. While Jack is a big guy, I’m fairly sure you could bury me out in the pasture."

The Bristow woman laughed, reassured that her daughter's heart would be safe enough until the time came for her to begin living again.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot, Michael, I just…my daughter is my main concern right now. I mean…Rick's been calling almost non-stop since she told him about the divorce, and you can imagine how defensive her father and I get."

Vaughn laughed, finishing his tea and standing quietly. "Well, you've got nothing to worry about from me, I promise. The next time Rick calls, let me know. We can arrange a restraining order pretty quick if you need one."

At her nod, he left with a goodbye and a wave. Laura was left standing in the kitchen was a contemplative look on her face, Jack walking in with a smile.

"What's on your mind?"

"Do you think she'll have to go to family court?"

"Probably. I don't think that Rick will just give up complete control over her and the boys quite yet. He'll probably fight, but you know he won't win."

Sighing, she continued. "It'll be tough on her, you know? Having to allocate everything that he did to her over the last two and a half years."

Jack watched the emotions sweep over his wife's eyes, seeing something else hidden in the chocolate depths. "Are you worried about Sydney recounting her story or are you worried about having to hear everything that Rick did to our daughter?"

"Don't shrink me, Jack, I was just thinking out loud."

"But I love to shrink you," he grinned, pulling her close for a hug. "I don't want to hear it either. But…we didn't have to live it – it'll be different for us. It'll hurt all the same, but she's the survivor and even though it'll kill us to listen to her, she needs us to be stronger than that."

**…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciations of the dinosaurs for those interested:
> 
> Barosaurus (bare-o-sore-us)  
> Allosaurus (al-o-sore-us)


	5. Hard Times

_ Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears _

_ While we all sup sorrow with the poor _

_ There's a song that will linger forever in our ears _

_ Oh, hard times come again no more _

"Momma?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Sydney mumbled as she tried to get Noah to hold still long enough to snap his overalls.

"Why can't I play wiff you all day?"

His innocent question made her smile and reach out to run a hand through his dirty blonde hair. Her toddler made a break for it on wobbly legs, giggling before he ran into his grandmother in the hallway. Laura deftly scooped him up and snapped the overall latches into place before entering the room.

"Well, Bill and Michael just showed up, but I say we get some breakfast before we start all that."

Sydney reluctantly nodded and stood, Jake reaching up and asking her to carry him. He'd been more clingy the last few days, never demanding her attention but always making sure that she was aware of what he was doing. Any opportunity that he had, he would have Sydney hold him close or sit on her lap.

Hefting him up, they made their way to the kitchen to make breakfast. "You can make the boys whatever you'd like mom, I'm probably just gonna eat toast."

Laura turned, hand on her hip and a skillet in the other, her hips cocked along with an eyebrow - the classic stance that announced the declaration of motherly advice.

"You'll need your energy for today sweetheart, why don't we make pancakes, eggs, and bacon?"

Sydney sighed, giving her mother the same look. "That may have worked when I was younger, but I'm a mom now too. Besides...with everything I have to talk about, I'll have trouble keeping the food down as it is, no matter if it's toast or continental breakfast."

Noah tugged at his grandmother's shirt, fixing her with bright blue eyes saying, "'cakes?"

With a laugh, the small group began to prepare breakfast. Noah helped break the eggs, his favorite job, and Jake helped Laura pour the batter into the skillet. After a hearty pile of food sat on plates atop the kitchen table, the elder Bristow female called out to the men to come and eat something before the day started.

Though the children were oblivious to the tension in the air, they understood that a lack of conversation usually meant that they should be quiet as well. Dutifully they ate their breakfast, bellying up on the syrupy pancakes and cheesy scrambled eggs before politely asking to go upstairs and play with their toys.

After the children had scampered off, Jack finally got a good look at his daughter's plate. " Sydney, you've hardly eaten anything. It's probably going to be a long morning, sweetheart, you should have more than that."

"Dad, I'm fine...um...I'll be fine. I doubt it's going to stay down anyway." Reiterating what she'd already told her mother, she stood and went to brush her teeth before agreeing to meet the men in the library. Her mother went with her in hopes of getting a rundown of the boys napping schedule, and to have a small pep talk with her only child.

Catching her in the bathroom, a pale Sydney leaning over the sink taking deep breaths, Laura's heart broke for the millionth time at seeing the pain her daughter was in.

"It'll be okay honey, I know it will. I mean, it might not be okay today...or tomorrow, but it will eventually get better."

Sydney merely nodded, trying to quell the urge to lose the half of the buttered pancake she'd consumed minutes ago. After splashing her face with cool water and brushing her teeth, she was delighted when her mother blatantly changed the subject and began asking about the boys. Catching her up on sleeping schedules, which had been slightly out of whack over the last week, Sydney moved into the boys’ bedroom to tell them to behave for grandma and snag a couple of hugs and kisses before her day began.

"Boys, I want you to have fun with grandma today, okay? You'll be around the horses so be careful." Noah hugged his mother, smushing a wet kiss against her cheek before scampering off to play with his trucks. Jake however noticed immediately that something was wrong and asked to be picked up.

"Mommy, will you leave us here?"

Frowning and pulling back she fixed her brown eyes on his cerulean orbs, seeing the uncertainty on his little face. "Jakey, why would you think that I'm leaving you? I've just got to spend the day with papa Jack, Michael, and his dad to try and figure out what we're going to do about your daddy."

_ 'There's no sense in lying right now, might as well tell him it's about his father.' _

"What about daddy? Is he gonna come here?"

"Absolutely not sweetheart, I promise. I'll be with you forever, okay?"

At his shy nod, he leaned in and gave her a kiss before holding out his favorite toy - a small plastic Spiderman figure that fit perfectly in the center of his tiny hand. "He's my friend when I'm sad, if you hold him he will give you happy pictures in your head."

Smiling with watery eyes and kissing his forehead, she handed him off to his grandmother before tucking the superhero into the palm of her hand, hoping that her young son was right in his hopes of giving her good thoughts for her day. Trudging off toward the study, a pit of anxiety mixed with fear settled low in her stomach.

_ 'Tis a song, a sigh of the weary _

_ Hard times, hard times come again no more _

_ Many days you have lingered around my cabin door _

_ Oh, hard times come again no more _

Jack met her in the hallway outside of his office, and she could hear quiet conversation and the shuffling of papers beyond the slightly opened door.

"Now…I know you don't want to do this Sydney, and believe me I'd do it for you if I could, but if at any time you need to take a break, speak up. This doesn't have to be an all-day thing."

"Dad…I don't know if I can do this; I don't wanna go in there."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not the first of the day, and her father sent her a small sympathetic smile. "Just remember that once you do this, it'll be in their hands and you won't have to deal with it for a while."

Heaving a sigh and accepting a hug and a kiss, she turned and headed into the room. Stopping, she noticed that her father wasn't moving from his spot in the hallway. In fact – he pulled up a chair and placed it across the hall from the door.

"What are you doing? Aren't you going to be in there with me?" Sounding more like a scared child than ever, panic flashed in her brown eyes. "Dad…I can't do this without you…please be in there with me."

"I can't sweetheart. Bill and Michael have to get this statement from  _ you _ . And I know you – you'll leave parts out because I'm in the room. I'll be right here, I swear. I'll be here when you're through."

Dropping her hands to her sides she held back a sob and tilted her head to the ceiling, mustering up what courage she had left.

_ 'I have to do this…I have to finish this one little thing. Not…for me…but for the boys. They need me to be stronger than this…' _

Wiping at her cheeks she gave Jack one last longing look before stepping into the room.

"Ah, Sydney. Would you close the door please?"

Jack's stomach dropped as Bill's words echoed through the room and out to where he was sitting. He was hoping that he'd at least be able to hear what was being said, despite the fact that he'd told his little girl that he couldn't. Propping his elbows on his knees and settling his head into his palms he had only one thing to do –

\- wait.

**...**

_ While we seek mirth and beauty _

_ And music light and gay _

_ There are frail ones fainting at the door _

_ Though their voices are silent _

_ Their pleading looks will say _

_ Oh, hard times come again no more _

Sydney's mind was awash with memories.

Some she'd tried to suppress, though they wouldn't be forced out of her conscious mind. Others were more pleasant. Thankfully, Bill was more than happy to sit and talk with her for a while before delving into the specifics of exactly why he and his son were there. While Bill and Sydney talked Michael sat at a laptop on her father’s desk and diligently typed everything down.

"Tell me about your boys. They're awfully cute."

Sydney flashed a genuine smile, relaxing a bit as her hands slid away from their clinched position against the armrests of the cushioned chair.

"Umm…Jake is a little over four and Noah is going to be three in a few months."

"That's great, I can almost remember Michael at that age. They seem very well taught, does Jake do well in school?"

Sydney nodded, "he's top of his class in pre-K, which as a mom and a teacher made me happy. Fortunately for me, his classes were at the school where I teach...taught - so I could easily pick him up and drop him off at his babysitter’s for the rest of my day."

"What grade do you teach?"

"Well, I worked at a pre-K through 8th-grade school, but I was the fourth through eighth English and Literature teacher."

Bill smiled and his posture and voice were completely at ease.

_ 'Maybe this won't be so hard after all. If they're gonna take it in stride, I suppose I will too.' _

"How long did you live in Los Angeles ?"

Sydney did the math, looking away studiously for a moment before turning back with an answer. "Almost six years. We moved there right after we got married."

"Good, good. How was Rick when you first got married? Did he ever show signs of aggression?"

_ 'Damnit.' _

"Umm…no. I guess he was everything a new husband should be. We went on our honeymoon to Paris and were pretty much normal newlyweds."

_ "Syd, c'mon, we've gotta go get the pictures from the developer." _

" _ Honey, do you honestly think they're ready yet?" Sydney laughed from behind her magazine as she sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by dozens of unpacked boxes. _

_ Rick squatted down in front of her, tipping the literature away from her with a wry smile. "I just want to see if they're done. If they're not we can grab lunch." _

_ Hauling her up despite her grousing, they quickly locked the door of their brand new townhome and smiled and waved at the new neighbors before jumping in the car. Arriving at the small shoppette they found that the pictures were indeed not quite finished, much to Rick's chagrin, so they decided to stop at a deli across the street. _

" _ You know…we could plan a second honeymoon," Rick suggested between bites of his sandwich as his wife rolled her eyes. "What? We had fun didn't we?" _

" _ Of course it was fun, but it technically wouldn't be called a honeymoon, it's what's known as a vacation. Which, may I remind you, that neither of us has time off of work for. Don't worry baby, we'll get time off again soon." _

_ He complied with a grunt, finishing their lunch before they bounced off to the developer once more, finding that the pictures of their honeymoon were finally done. Spending the rest of the afternoon on the living room floor using a box as a dining room table the couple flipped through the hundred or so photos they'd taken while in Paris. Rick's humongous and expensive digital camera took magnificent photos of the scenery, while Sydney's smaller and less expensive camera was used for the fun shots – swimming pools, gardens, and theme parks. _

"So there wasn't any time where you and Rick got into an argument and he appeared threatening or threatened you."

"No…not that I can remember. We were surprised when we found out about Jake, but after planning for Noah everything seemed to go smoothly. It wasn't until he was fired from his job that he began drinking."

"When was this?"

"Umm…Noah was about three months old, so a little over two and a half years ago."

Bill nodded as he put on his glasses, his bright green eyes flashing behind the glass lenses as he looked down at several pieces of paper in his hands.

"Could you pin down the exact moment when Rick began showing signs of aggression or began threatening you?"

Sydney thought for a moment, her hands once again moving back to the arms, her fingers digging in.

"It was…right after Noah had his three-month checkup."

_ Balancing her purse and a carrier in her hands Sydney struggled to open up the front door to the townhome. The air outside was hot and sticky, and though the cooling breeze from the ocean was wafting in, it wasn't doing much against the sun reflecting off of the white houses and hot asphalt. _

_ Little Noah cried from behind the shade that was pulled down over the top of his car seat, the heat beginning to get trapped inside with his tiny little body. Jake stood next to his mother with a stuffed dog in his small hands, the two-year-old more than content to pretend that his puppy was bouncing up and down rather than focus on the heat of mid-afternoon. _

" _ I know sweetie, just give mommy a minute. She doesn't have enough hands to do this," she grunted, finally fitting the key into the hole and managing to unlock the front door. Blessedly cool air flowed around them and though the infant's aggravation wouldn't be quelled, Sydney began to feel much better. _

_ Setting her things in the middle of the foyer she opened up his seat and unbuckled him, pulling his hot little body out of the confining space and into the open coolness of the living room. Her eldest scampered off to a pile of large building blocks, pulling the container out to the middle of the floor. _

" _ Oh, Mr. Grumpy, what's gotten into you?" _

_ Carrying him upstairs, he began to calm a bit tucked against his mother's familiar chest. Changing his diaper quickly, she heard the front door open and slam. Not worrying about his clothes, she hurried downstairs. _

" _ Jake, how many times have I said not to open the door?" _

_ His innocent eyes peeked up at her from his spot at his blocks, though her attention was drawn to the broken man sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. A box of office items, photos, a small plant, and hand-drawn pictures from Jake sat at his feet. _

" _ Honey, what happened?" _

" _ The bastards fired me." _

_ Sydney gasped, settling Noah in the playpen in the kitchen while asking Jake to go upstairs to his room to find something else to do. _

" _ Why did they fire you baby?" _

_ Crouching down in front of him, it wasn't hard to notice the alcohol smell radiating from his body. She ignored it, trying to convince herself that she'd probably do the same thing if she'd been fired from a job that she'd given over 8 years to. _

" _ They said that I hadn't done enough for the company. It’s because I hadn't taken that business trip a couple of months ago that I wasn't a necessary part of the team." His voice rose with each slurred word, Sydney rocking back on her heels as she looked at the angry and hurt man in front of her. _

" _ Bastards," was all she could think of to say, startled, she watched as he stood up and picked up his box of items, hurling it across the room into Jake's plastic shelves of toys. _

" _ They didn't give a fuck! I told them I was having a kid…that I needed to be here for you, and this is how they treat a family man? For Christ's sake, their motto is 'To Help Better Serve the Family Community'!" _

" _ Easy sweetheart, I know you're upset, but the boys are here. Why don't I drop them off at Becky's and we can talk." _

_ He turned, his eyes flashing angrily. "I lose my fucking job and all you care about is whether or not the kids hear daddy say a bad word?!" _

" _ No…that's not what I meant, I only meant-" _

" _ I'm going out," he snarled, stalking past her as she stood quickly, setting her hand against his arm. _

" _ Please don't go…look, I'm sorry, I should have been more sensitive. C'mon, let's talk." _

_ Ripping his arm away from her he grabbed his keys from the dining room table and flew out the door, the wood and metal slamming as it met head-on from the force of her angry husband. _

"So…his first act of aggression wasn't physical."

Sydney shook her head, her mind still lost in the memory of having to calm a crying two-year-old, letting him know that daddy didn't mean to yell – that he was just angry.

"Did the drinking continue?"

Another nod.

"I mean did the drinking continue that day."

"Yeah, he…I found him passed out in the middle of the living room later that afternoon. I'd taken the boys to the park and then over to their babysitter Becky's for a few hours so I could clean up the mess. He'd gotten back after I'd left, and I found the car in the middle of the lawn and him a mess on the carpet."

"What did you do?"

"I fixed the boys dinner and put them to bed early before I woke him up enough that I could get him onto the couch."

"Was he still angry?"

She shook her head, seeing the surprise on Bill's face. "Well, I don't think he remembered that he was angry. He apologized for losing his temper and fell back to sleep, so I just covered him up with a blanket."

"What happened the next day?"

Sydney thought, trying desperately to remember the day following their big blow up. "Ummm…nothing I think. He had a horrible hangover, but he apologized again the next morning and spent time with Jake and Noah before looking for jobs online and in the newspaper."

"And did he come close to finding a job?"

"Yes, a couple of times. But they each ended with a letter that said 'we appreciate your application but we're not looking to hire at this time'."

"And…after he received these letters did he get angry or aggressive?"

"Not toward me…or the boys, but he'd say he needed to go out for a while and end up coming home drunk, bruised and bleeding. I just figured that he'd get his aggression out in meaningless bar fights, but it got so bad that I had to go and get him out of jail one night. I…I guess…after that…was when it got physical."

"When was this and how did it happen?"

_ "Jake, please hold still," Sydney laughed as she tried valiantly to get the squirming two and a half year old to sit still so she could get his pajamas on. _

" _ I'ma roo!" Giggling, he proved his point by jumping up and down a few times, Sydney having to abandon connecting the zipper from one side of the footie pajamas to the other. _

" _ Okay roo, you can't sleep without p.js. so let's get these on." _

" _ Nekkid," _

" _ No, little roo, we're not gonna sleep naked. That's why grandma and papa got you these pajamas." _

" _ Roo’s no 'jammas!" he grumbled, crossing his little arms over his chest. _

_ Deciding that he wasn't upset at having to put his pajamas on, that he was merely upset at not getting a chance to do what he wanted, Sydney caved a little bit. _

" _ Do you want to do it?" _

_ This aroused his interest, and he quickly nodded his head and reached down for the zipper. _

" _ Zip zip!" _

_ Sydney laughed, guiding his fingers to the correct spots before helping him hook the zipper into the partnering spot. "Now pull up, roo," _

_ With ease, the zipper traveled up his leg, twisting around to the front up and over his stomach before ending at the level of his collarbones. _

" _ Good job! Now, let's get you into bed." _

_ Flying him up the stairs and into his little car-shaped bed she smiled across the room at a sleeping Noah. "I love you. Promise me you'll stay in bed and not come out, okay? You've got your talkie right here, so if you need me you can just ask and I'll hear you through my talkie." _

_ Picking up and holding out his monitor she switched it on, making sure he'd be able to use it if he got scared or had to go to the bathroom. Potty training was going well…but not through the night. The installation of a rubber protective mat to go over his bed became essential, as did pull-up diapers when he was sleeping. _

" _ Nite momma, lub!" _

" _ Love you too, little roo." _

_ Closing the door to the nursery she jogged down the steps to begin laundry. Running around the house and gathering the dirty clothes from each room, waiting until the very end to get the kid’s clothes so that she wouldn't disturb her son while he was trying to get to sleep, she carried the large basket to the basement laundry room. _

_ Her only indication that Rick was home was the slam of the front door. Sighing, she knew she was probably in for a long night of fixing her husband's bumps and bruises and then to be up for Noah's 1 a.m. feeding between loads of wash. Finishing loading up the washing machine, she left everything else downstairs before making her way up to the kitchen. _

_ The fridge was open, and though she couldn't see him she could hear him. _

" _ Damnit, I'm hungry." His voice was slurred, and as she turned and picked up his jacket from its current position in the middle of the living room floor, she immediately noticed the bloodstains on the front. _

" _ Well, you missed dinner." _

" _ Yeah, but you can still make me something, can't you?" _

" _ I don't know Rick, I haven't had time to go to the store this week so we're pretty low on food. We might have to wait until the weekend because I get paid on Friday." _

" _ So what, I have to starve because you won't go to the store?" _

_ Sydney's temper flared, though she pushed it down knowing that he'd be more than content to argue since he was drunk. "It's not that I don't want to go, I just don't have time. I'm trying to get a lesson plan together for the new school year, get Jakey enrolled for preschool, keep the house clean, and raise the kids. I'm sorry I can't always do something the second you snap at me to do it." _

" _ Where the hell is this coming from?" _

" _ I'm tired of this, Rick! You're not doing anything to help get yourself a job. Did you go to your interview today?" _

" _ Yeah…they…they said they'd give me a call. It looked…very promising." _

_ Shaking her head at his slurred statement, she walked over to the answering machine and pushed the large green button. _

' _ Hello, Mr. Montgomery, this is Margaret over at the James Company. You had an appointment today for 11:45 to apply for the manager position that's open and we didn't see you for the appointment. If you need to call and verify another day or time, you can call me at-' _

_ With a beep, Sydney cut off the message. "Have you been going to any of these interviews? Or have you just been wasting time and money at a bar?" _

" _ Who the hell do you think you are? You can't tell me what I can and can't do." _

" _ You're the reason we don't have any food in the house, Rick! You're being so selfish about this whole thing! You got fired –  _ **_so what_ ** _! Get off of your ass and do something about it! I can't raise this family on my own; you need to help. That means getting a job, doing it, and being here to support your kids." _

_ A loud slap resonated through the kitchen, the stinging of Sydney's cheek her first indication that something had happened. The shocked look on Rick's face as mirrored in her own, though that changed as tears filled her eyes as she stared at the man that a rough patch in life had changed so much. _

" _ God…Syd…I'm…I'm so sorry, I...I just snapped." _

_ She backed away, lifting up his coat and handing him his keys. Getting the message quickly he gathered his things up and walked outside to his haphazardly parked car. _

_ 'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave _

_ 'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore _

_ 'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave _

_ Oh, hard times come again no more _

_ 'Tis a song a sigh of the weary _

_ Hard times come again no more _

_ Many days you have lingered ‘round my cabin door _

_ Oh, hard times come again no more _

After giving the young woman a few minutes of silence, the elder Vaughn continued. "What happened after that?"

Sydney's grip on the chair grew as she remembered walking blindly through tears to the nearest bathroom and staring for almost an hour at the red finger marks on her cheek. The shock hadn't dissipated, and she wasn't quite sure if it ever would.

"It…hurt."

Bill noticed immediately that her mind wasn't with them at the moment, and felt that she may need a break. Gesturing over to Michael who'd stopped typing at her quiet utterance, he signaled for a glass of water and the young man hurried to comply.

"I…I couldn't believe that he'd hit me. I - I never thought that he'd become that kind of guy, you know? I never saw it coming."

"Sydney, most women don't. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Why don't we take a break?"

"But it wasn't the only time…he - he did it more often. He'd come home angry and I - I had to put the boys to bed earlier and earlier…and he just didn't care." Her eyes overflowed as she began to sob through her words, Michael reentering and closing the door after setting a hand to a worried Mr. Bristow's shoulder.

"Sydney-"

"Slaps turned to punches…and – and kicks, and I just…I didn't want to believe it. How…how could love turn so," searching for the right word, her fingers turning white against their grip of the armrests, Bill sat at a loss.

_ 'This is Jack's field, he's the psychologist, not me.' _

"-so angry? I didn't even…even try to stop him. I just made sure th-that the boys weren't around for it."

Memories quickly assaulted her mind. Rick finding out she'd scheduled interviews for him – and the black eye and a broken rib that followed. Rick opening the check that she'd gotten from her father after asking for help with rent that month – and the broken, jagged piece of a mirror that lay embedded in her arm after its jaunt across the room and against the wall she'd been backed into.

Her eyes flitted to the scar that was merely a faint white streak across the side of her lower arm, starting above her wrist and moving four inches toward the crook of her elbow.

"Sydney…let's stop." Michael's voice snapped her out a bit, her confused, swollen, and red eyes looking up at him as he walked over with the glass of water in his hand. "Okay? Why don't we stop? You can go check on the boys?"

She dumbly nodded, though she couldn't help from keeping her fingers from tracing a scar here and there. Sobs wracked her body, and Michael did the only thing he could.

He set the water down, knelt in front of the chair, and hugged her.

**…**


	6. Hard Times Part 2

_ It was only one hour ago _

_ It was all so different then _

_ There's nothing yet has really sunk in _

_ Looks like it always did _

_ This flesh and bone _

_ It's just the way that you would tied in _

_ Now there's no-one home _

_ Peter Gabriel - I Grieve _

Leaning against the fence's top rung and watching her children play with their grandmother set her mind at ease. She was drained of everything at the moment and wasn't exactly sure if she'd obey the,  _ 'let's get back together in one hour' _ parameter that the elder Vaughn had set.

She had nothing against the Vaughn's for putting her through this. She knew that she'd eventually have to recount everything that Rick had done to her and the boys, it was just that she wasn't prepared for everything to hit her at once. The damage was done though, and while she felt that she'd been seeing the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel through her parents' kindness, after today she knew it was just a train barreling toward her as she hobbled down the tracks.

Feeling more than seeing a presence beside her, peeking out of the corner of her eye, she recognized the younger of the lawyers as he leaned against the railing beside her. Blessedly, he said nothing - leaving the woman to her thoughts.

"I'm afraid to go back inside, Michael." Her quiet admission permeated the silence, fear lacing each word. She didn't make eye contact, and he wasn't even sure if he was supposed to answer - let alone know what he would say to help her.  _ 'All those years at Harvard Law and you don't know what to say?' _

Sydney's eyes were fixed on the pasture across the yard, her mother leading the boys around as they fed the goats, chickens, and horses. Despite the scene of normalcy before her, she wasn't actually seeing it. Her eyes were seeing one thing while her mind was filled with the image of the plush chair and the memories she'd have to give up while sitting in it - the chair only pretending to be innocent and comfy.

He wanted nothing more than to help the hurting young woman before him, finally saying the first thing that came to mind. Clearing his throat a bit and gathering his thoughts, "I'm…I'm afraid of spiders."

Breaking her focus she turned to study his face, her eyes reflecting confusion as she shook her head silently. "What?"

Michael stuttered, his gaze moving down to the railing as the woody detail claimed his attention, an embarrassed smile gracing his lips. "I...I just - I thought that...if I shared a fear of mine it - it would help. I'm sorry."

His cheeks blushed but he was surprised when she began laughing. "Look, your dad is the psychologist, not me. I don't know why I said that." Her laughter continued, giving way to giggles as she leaned against the railing wiping tears from her eyes.

"Thank you. I...I needed that. That helped more than you know." For once the tears were happy and she couldn't wipe the smile from her face - dimples out in full force.

"What were you thinking about before my disastrous attempt at distraction?"

Sydney sighed, the dimples and smiles leaving, as she finally regarded her companion. "I guess I've just been thinking about all the wrong decisions I've ever made. I know it's not the most productive use of my time, but I can't stop going over all of the details in my head, you know? What could I have done differently? And even if there was something different that I could do…would I have had the guts to do it or would I have been too afraid to even try?"

"You're stronger than you think you are. I mean, even Atlas needed help holding up the sky."

With a smile and a squeeze to her shoulder, Michael turned and headed back to the house. Sydney sighed and, as if walking the proverbial green mile, made her way over dew-dripping grass back to the front door.

**…**

Sydney wiped at her cheeks for the millionth time it seemed, pausing for a moment to take a sip of water. If anything was easy about the whole ordeal it was the fact that the Vaughn's were extremely compassionate. They actually listened to every word she spoke, giving her time for each little breakdown and even more for her to compose herself. They flinched as they imagined each instance of violence against the young woman sitting in the chair beside them, their kind green eyes full of understanding.

"How bad did Rick get, Sydney? Did you ever need serious medical attention?"

It took her a moment, but she focused her gaze and fingers on a hole in the knee of her jeans before nodding slowly.

"Do you remember which hospital you were at and when you were admitted?"

"Ummm, Angel's Mercy Hospital, a few months ago roughly, I…I don't remember a date. To be honest - I don't remember much of anything from those few days."

Ironically, it was one of her less painful memories. She wasn't sure about the details because of the severe head trauma, but she did distinctly remember the pain after waking from her three-day stay at the hospital.

"I…I only remember arguing after getting home late one evening. My friend had babysat the boys since I'd promised one of my students that I'd be there at a school play if he'd redo his homework for a better grade." She laughed, though to the Vaughn's it sounded a bit more like a sob, and would have thought so if it wasn't for the wistful smile on her face.

"Sydney, if you don't remember that's okay. Michael, would you call the hospital and have them fax over the information please?" Bill removed his glasses and rubbed at the pinched skin at the bridge of his nose, his son typing a bit on the computer before pulling out his cell phone and dialing, stepping from the room for a moment.

Placing a hand to her knee he squeezed gently, catching her attention. "Do you need anything? More water?"

"I'm okay, I guess."

Jack watched as Michael spoke quietly with someone at a hospital, his worried eyes following the lawyer as he paced up and down the hallway. The green-eyed man gave the fax number of the house, thanking whoever was on the other line before sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"What…how are things going?"

Michael smiled reassuringly before patting the elder Bristow on the back and reentering the room. "The fax will be here soon, they had the files available."

"Thanks, son." The compassionate-eyed businessman was back, his glasses going back over his eyes as he turned his attention once more to the blotchy, bleary-eyed woman. "Was that the worst, Sydney?"

"That he  _ physically  _ did to me? Yeah. I don't remember much, but I do remember that it was after his annual baseball game with him and his friends from high school."

"He...he didn't hit you with his fists that night, did he?" Michael had been silent throughout the whole day - content to listen and type and keep his opinions and comments to himself, but this one story had his teeth and nerves on edge. It wasn't until the others in the room fixed their eyes on him that he realized he'd asked the question aloud.

Her response was a shrug as she lifted her hand, fingering the make-up covered scar underneath her right eye. "All I remember is that he was so drunk he could hardly walk, and he and his friends partied in the backyard until the middle of the night, despite the fact that they'd lost the game. I finally asked them to pack it in since the boys were trying to sleep and the cops had already been there once because of a noise complaint. He…seemed fine with it until his friends left," she floated away, her eyes glazing over with tears as more and more of the night pieced itself together as she thought harder.

"I'd never seen such a - a terrifying look on his face. I mean, he always scared me when he drank, but this - this was a fear I'd never felt before. I remember us arguing but don’t remember the subject. I usually didn't argue with him, but that night I was apparently either brave or stupid."

She paused, her fingers reaching up to her cheek subconsciously to once again finger the scar feeling the wetness that had been absent before.

"I...I remember telling him off that baseball wasn't a job and that I didn't want his friends around our house any longer. And the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with 18 stitches under my eye and four broken ribs."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she recalled the gasp of her friend Becky when she went to pick up the boys from their four-day stay with her impromptu babysitter.

"What did you tell the people around you?"

"Car accident. It...it wasn't a hard lie to fit in to since after Rick did...what he had, he left the house and crashed the car into a tree." Taking in a shuddering breath she tried to compose herself, feeling her lip and chin begin to quiver.

Bill's eyes shone with confusion as he removed his glasses, fixing her with a soft yet piercing gaze. "If Rick left after the incident...how did you get to the hospital?"

A sob escaped her lips as she snatched up another Kleenex, her fingers tracing the outline of the Spiderman action figure in her jeans pocket. "Jake told me that he - he saved me. Th-that he'd called 9-1-1 like a good boy...like I'd taught him if someone needed help. Bill…please – please don't interview my baby."

He nodded, lying to the young woman knowing that he'd have to ask the little boy about the night where Sydney had been so severely injured.

"Did he ever hit your children?" A deft change of subject, though no one in the room complained.

"Once – and that's when we…well –  _ I _ left."

"You…you wouldn't happen to have taken pictures, would you? If we need to go to family court because Rick wants to fight for custody, we'll need evidence that shows that he isn't a fit parent. Though, if I was a judge I wouldn't give him a kid even if it would save his life."

Sydney sighed, reaching into her pocket and extracting her cell phone. "I…I took a couple of pictures with my phone while he was asleep. Rick hit him with his belt and left finger marks on his arms, but that's all I've known of. I've always made sure that I was home with my boys when Rick was around, I swear."

Bill reassured her, making sure she knew that they weren't calling her parenting into question.

"I might have to ask him some questions, but I'm not going to sit down with him as we have with you, Sydney, I promise you that. If everything goes well we can finish the papers, have you sign them, get them over to Rick, have  _ him _ sign them, and then be done with it. Keeping it out of family court would be best for everyone here, honestly."

"You know…I think we're good. I'm sorry that we had to make you go through all of this, I really am. I've been friends with your father for years and I've heard so much about you I feel that you're my own daughter. It just breaks my heart to see how you've been treated. I'll make sure that if this does take longer than it should, I'll shelter you from the brunt of it." Bill took her hand and squeezed it, Sydney leaning forward and catching him in a hug as a sob soaked into his jacket. A chorus of stomachs rumbled, breaking the tension in the room as the three of them laughed. "It's dinner time, c'mon. Let's get out of this dreary office and you can just relax this weekend."

Bill left, closing the door behind him to talk with Jack as Michael packed up the laptop. "Do you feel like you conquered your fears, Syd?"

Fixing tear-filled eyes on him as she stood and picked up the half a dozen or so tissue scattered on the floor around the plush chair. "Honestly…I do feel better. I'm not the only one that knows about this crap now. As hard as it was to talk about, I'm glad I did it. Thank you again for helping…for listening. I mean…I know it's your job and everything, but still - thank you.”

Packing his things he moved over to where she stood with a smile. "Hey…I would happily shoulder all the bad junk. Unfortunately, I can't – but I'm going to try my best."

A thankful tear streaked down her cheek, Michael sending her a soft smile. "Don't worry about a thing, okay? We’ve got you."

They exited the office together, the young man giving father and daughter a moment alone – their first of the day.

"Did you really sit there the whole time dad? It's been eight hours." Jack wrapped his daughter in his arms, his grip squeezing the breath from her lungs as his body shook slightly.

Confused for a moment until she heard a sob, for the first time in the last few days not coming from her, she sighed. Pulling him close, she became the comforter.

"I'm sorry, Sydney; so sorry."

He'd heard it all – every story she recalled, every bit of what the man he'd given her away to had done. Anger coursed through him at first but it was replaced quickly by sadness that he hadn't been more forceful in getting his daughter away from the whole situation.

Sydney held her father as he quietly cried into her hair. Jack's larger frame didn't fit very well in her arms, though she still attempted to rub and pat his back as if he was one of her sons. "Dad, it'll be okay." Pulling away with each hand on his shoulders, she leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't break on me now, daddy, you're the stronger of us both."

He cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away tears she hadn't realized she'd shed. "You are the strongest person I've ever met, Sydney. If anyone can get through this – you can." She wasn't prepared for the intensity in his gaze, unable to avert her eyes to focus on something else since he held her in place. "I love you, Sydney and I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, dad."

Standing in comfortable silence, they straightened up and made their way to the kitchen. The young mother's legs were quickly attacked as she leaned down, embracing both excited bundles against her chest.

Dinner was surprisingly boisterous and jovial. The entire group put the last eight hours behind them, Bill and Michael ditching their ties and overcoats and relaxing.

After dessert the men retreated to the living room, each bearing a glass of brandy as Laura decided to put the boys to bed.

"C'mon you two – time for bed."

"Momma…can you tuck us in, please? I missed you all day." Jake hadn't left her leg, even while she cleaned the table up and stood at the sink to prewash the dishes.

"Of course, sweetie. You let grandma get you all ready and I'll be up in a minute to tuck you in, okay?"

Minutes passed by as she stood looking out the small window into the blackness, a soapy plate forgotten as she was lost in thought. It wasn't until someone turned the water on, taking the plate from her and beginning to rinse it, that she jumped back to the present. Michael had rolled his sleeves up, casting a smile as he offered to help with the dishes.

"Aren’t you off the clock?" Joking as she grabbed another dish, scrubbing it slowly as the young man laughed before transferring the dish into the washer.

"It's either this or listen to our dad's talk politics." His faked shudder made her laugh as they quietly washed, rinsed, and loaded up the dishwasher.

The last dish was done, Sydney washing off her hands as Michael closed the machine and leaned against the counter.

Laura broke the silence from her spot leaning against the doorframe. "The boys are ready, honey."

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough for you to finish the dishes so I don't have to." Winking with a laugh she poured a cup of coffee and found a seat at the counter.

"Thanks for the help," Sydney placed a hand on Michael's arm before leaving the room, tossing the wet rag onto the counter.

"Michael…I don't need to warn you about getting too close again, do I?" Laura focused a caring yet stern gaze on him, his arms crossing defensively as kept his own eyes away from the woman across the room. "I know that it's really easy to care for Sydney, she just has this way about her that drags you in. But Michael…you  _ can't _ get dragged in."

"I've already told you that I won't, Laura, c'mon. Give me credit."

"Oh, I do. I give you credit – but I also know my daughter and I know that you are kind and caring, and she's naturally going to gravitate toward you. You're her age, she knows she can talk to you, and she knows that you're safe."

Michael nodded, not disagreeing with anything she'd said so far.  _ 'How is it that women are this astute? That can't be fair.' _

"You know that I wouldn't do anything to make Sydney uncomfortable. Nor would I do something that would be detrimental to her case. I just…I can't help but try to put myself in their shoes. All of my clients are special, and you're right – I do have a problem distancing myself from doing whatever I can to help them get over whatever hurdle they're facing. It's just who I am…it's how I was raised."

Moving to a free seat, finding his abandoned glass of brandy on the table, he finally met her eyes. "I can't help but want to strangle him. I mean…all the bad guys in my cases – but Rick the most."

"Me either. In fact, if he does show up, I'd better not be the one to answer the door. But…Michael she…I don't think she's strong enough to resist you."

"I'm not going to – "

"I know you won't  _ mean _ to, but you're… _ you _ . You're charming and nice and sweet and everything that she's been craving from her husband over the last two and a half years. Please don't spend an unnecessary amount of time with her, please. I can't fix her broken heart again."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he scrunched his eyes closed. "I promise, Laura. I give you my word that my relationship with Sydney will be 100% professional."

' _ I hope…' _

**…**


	7. Coming to Terms

Sunlight streaked through the room, hitting the young woman as she tried to snuggle farther into the warmth of the comforter to escape the invasive beams. Giggling broke through the fog as she realized that she'd never get back to sleep if her children were up and ready to explore the new day.

The laughter grew closer to her closed door, a smile gracing her lips as she stretched languidly beneath the covers, intent to stay in the soft bed as long as possible, though a rumble in her stomach and a brief burst of queasiness made her grumble.

The doorknob rattled, little hands unable to open it all the way as she sat up and stretched once more, her back popping slightly. Noah creaked the door open, his little nose poking into the room first. When he saw her sitting with her focus on the slowly opening door, he giggled and pushed it wide, a loud "sup'ize!" filling the once quiet room.

Jake wasn't too far behind and Sydney could hear her mother's encouraging voice urging him. Stepping into the room with a tray containing buttered toast and a large bowl of oatmeal, he flashed his own dimples before making his way to her bedside.

"Well, look at this!" Noah climbed up onto the bed and went straight into her arms, a wet kiss squishing against her cheek before he stuck his thumb between his lips and snuggled into her side. "What's the occasion?" Pushing away her upset stomach she cuddled her littlest boy.

"Mommy…it's your birfday. Did'ja forget?" Jake's eyes never left the tray, his tiny steps making the trek across the room much longer than usual.

Realization swept across her features as her mother laughed from the doorway, a glass of orange juice in her possession as she didn't entirely trust the five-year-old to carry it without staining the carpets and hardwood floors. "You know what…I did forget. Thank you for reminding me, my boys, this is the best birthday present ever."

Taking the food from her eldest, letting him climb up on her other side like his brother, she munched on the toast before casting it back to the tray.

"What do you want to do today, momma?"

"You know…I think we should go into town and play on the new playground grandma was telling us about. What do you think?" Noah 'hoorayed' from his spot before standing and beginning to jump on the comforter.

Laura swept him up with tickles to his sides as she rebuked him for jumping on the bed in a way only a grandmother could, as Sydney set the tray aside, the sight of the food making her stomach feel a bit uneasy.

"But that's what you would do on  _ my _ birfday. What do  _ you _ want to do?" Jake looked up at her with piercing blue eyes, intent on doing whatever his mother wanted to do – even if it wasn't as much fun as a playground.

Sydney smiled sweetly, cupping his chin and setting a kiss to his forehead. "I want to spend the day with my two favorite boys having fun. So, you should go get dressed and I'll get up out of this bed."

Before her sentence was even complete the boys were off, their footy pajamas scuffing across the carpet as Sydney stood, stretching for the last time as she straightened her crooked camisole and made her way over to the bureau to grab clothes.

"I don't want you going into town alone, honey." Busying herself with making her daughter's bed, she felt more than saw Sydney's eyes boring into her back.

"Mom, it's been two and a half weeks. If Rick was going to show up, he would have done it already."

"You don't know that."

Heaving a sigh she made her way into the adjoining bathroom. "Mom…I - I don't want to be afraid to go outside with my kids. Why do we have to suffer and be stagnant because he decided to get a little punch happy?"

"Because he almost  _ killed  _ you Sydney. You don’t think that learning it was Rick instead of the car accident was easy on us?"

Sounds from the bathroom stopped as she poked her head out and saw the tears on her mother's cheeks. "You weren't supposed to know that," she grumbled, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to try and cool herself off a bit, willing her stomach to settle so she could start her day.

"Well, now we do."

Laura flopped down on the bed with one leg folded under her lithe body as she stared at the partly closed door of the bedroom.

"Mom, if you're so worried why don't you come? Rick would have to be out of his mind to try anything with you around." Her chuckles from the bathroom made her mother laugh, knowing that her daughter was likely right.

"I'll leave a note for your father."

The new park wasn't crowded and the boys instantly wanted to play and touch everything. Noah journeyed into the sandbox with his big-wheeled truck and a bucket while Jake sprang into action and climbed to the top of the jungle gym and slid down the long, yellow curled slide.

"I'm proud of you, you know." Sydney turned to face her mother, the women seated on the bench overlooking the playground.

"Thanks, mom. You were right you know." Seeing the confusion in Laura's eyes she continued, "about me needing to leave sooner."

"Sweetheart, I also know that it was easy for me to  _ say  _ while it was almost impossible for you to  _ do _ ."

A comfortable silence filled the moment as she squeals of her boys wafted over. 

"Sometimes I wish I was as strong as you; maybe I  _ would _ have left earlier."

Grabbing her child's hand Laura squeezed it hard. "You're my daughter and I love you, but you never give yourself enough credit."

"It's been a problem since I was a kid," Sydney laughed, shaking her head. Noah called out for her as he stood in front of the swings, so she set their light jackets on the bench and walked across to him.

"Sing!" His little smile lit up even the outdoors as she set him in the toddler seat, poking his legs through and making sure he was comfortable before giving it a gentle push.

"Ooh…me too, momma!" Jake scampered off the slide and over to his family before jumping up onto the seat.

"Let's practice pumping on your own." Helping him start she reminded him to tuck his legs under and to lean forward when going backward and the opposite when going forwards.

Jake started to get the hang of it, though his little body got tired quickly, and Laura watched from the bench as the now single mother pushed both of her boys, three different laughs filling her heart with warmth.

She couldn't keep her thoughts from wandering as she quietly folded her hands over her crossed legs, her memories floating to the previous year.

_ Pulling up and parking in front of the small townhouse, Laura and Jack exited the car with excitement bubbling in their stomachs. Each carrying several wrapped bundles they made their way up to the front door, knocking three times. _

_ Their breathless daughter answered with her one-year-old son on her hip and a purpling bruise on her right cheekbone. _

" _ Mom…dad…what - hi!" _

" _ Sydney, goodness!" Dropping the gifts in the entryway Laura cupped her cheeks and examined her face. "What happened?" _

" _ Oh, don't…nothing – it was an accident. A…the students were playing baseball a couple days ago and I had recess duty and got nailed. What are you two doing here you said you couldn't make it in for Noah's birthday!" Deftly changing the subject she passed the excited toddler over to her mother and accepting a large hug from her father. _

" _ Gammy! Papa!" Jake thundered down the steps and threw himself at his grandfather. _

" _ Where's Rick?" _

" _ He said he won't be home until late because he and his friends have their game night. Which is basically watching football at a bar rather than in the living room." _

_ They chatted into the evening as the boys played with the new toys the grandparents had given them, Sydney staring at the stack of children's clothes that now littered the table. _

" _ Papa do story-time?" Jack couldn't refuse his grandson and carried him upstairs, the three-year-old leaning in to give his mother and grandmother hugs and kisses before being hefted over a shoulder and bounced up the stairs. _

_ Laura turned serious hazel eyes on her daughter, Sydney flinching and turning away from the intensity in her mother's gaze. "Tell me how you got that bruise." _

" _ Mom…I told you." _

" _ I've always been able to tell when you're lying, Sydney Anne, don't think that since you're not fifteen-years-old that you can get away with it." _

_ Unable to take the severity of the conversation the flustered daughter rose and began cleaning the dishes in the sink from the cake and ice cream. "Please don't mom…just accept that it was an accident and leave it, alright? Please?" _

" _ Sydney you are  _ **_smarter_ ** _ than this!" The slump of her daughter's shoulders made her soften her voice to a near whisper, "if he's beating you…you have to leave." _

" _ He's not beating me! Can't you just drop it?" _

" _ You are  _ **_my_ ** _ daughter and I will not just sit by while you let this man ruin your life!" _

" _ I'm not a kid anymore; you can't just walk in here and assume that my life is terrible!" _

" _ I'm not assuming anything with that giant bruise on your face!" _

_ Sydney stopped pretending to wash the dishes as her eyes filled and spilled over, tears plopping into the water before she turned hurt and sad eyes on her mother, "I just…I don't want to leave him mom; it…it was a stupid mistake." _

_ Laura desperately wanted to pull her daughter into her arms like when she was a child but needed to accept that Sydney would live her life how she wanted, regardless of her advice. Calming down a bit she rose slowly, making her way into the kitchen where her sniffling daughter stood. _

" _ Honey, I…I'll trust your judgment on this one, alright? You know him better than I do. But know that I'm worried and I don't want to see you or the boys hurt in all of this. Promise me that if it happens again…you'll leave." _

_ Pulling away and wiping her nose on a napkin she flashed her megawatt smile, dimples caving her cheeks in as Laura reached up and wiped her tears away with the pads of her thumbs. _

" _ I love you, mom." _

" _ Love you too, sweetheart. If…if you need to leave you are always welcome at the house – you know that." _

_ Nodding as her father walked into the room, "Jake's asleep honey, out like a light." He stopped seeing his two girls crying in the kitchen, both sets of chocolate eyes pleading with him not to say anything.  _

Laura remembered how Jack had nearly given them both whiplash after slamming on the breaks with his desire to turn back and throw the lot of them into the vehicle – and she now regretted that she convinced him not to.

"Mom? Hellooo?"

The subject of her thoughts waving a hand in front of her face brought her back from the past, the two smiles of her grandsons and the curious face of her daughter made her chuckle and wipe at the tears on her cheeks.

"Sorry, I drifted off there."

"Can we get happy meals, grammy? Wiff chickie nuggs?" Laura agreed quickly, hefting Jake on her hip as the group made their way back to the car.

The two women walked into the house each carrying a sleeping child. Things were quiet and they shed their shoes before carrying the boys up to their bedroom and getting them tucked in. Ten minutes later they were laughing at the kitchen table when a knock on the door pulled Sydney away, the young woman forcing her mother to sit and relax.

Tossing it open the smiling green eyes of Michael Vaughn greeted her. "Hey,"

"Hey. Can Jack come play?"

She giggled and moved aside letting him in. "I don't even know if he's here. Why don't you get something to drink in the kitchen and I'll check his office."

They went their separate ways, Sydney jogging up the steps and making her way into the large den. Her father sat at the large desk poring over papers, his glasses sitting low on his nose. She knocked gently when he didn't hear the door open and his focus shifted, Sydney smiling a greeting.

"Morning, sweetheart."

"It's afternoon, dad. What have you been up to all day?"

"You know…things."

"Michael's here."

"Oh good! Can you let him up?"

Sydney grinned as he went back to his paperwork. "Am I going to get a paycheck for being your assistant?"

His chuckle followed her as she retreated, skipping down the steps, and reentering the kitchen. "He's in the den, you can go on up."

Snagging a muffin from the pile sitting on the table he said his farewells and left the ladies to their chatting.

"How are you feeling?" Laura asked with concerned brown eyes on her daughter. "Your spirits seem lifted this last week."

"Emotionally? I feel better. I mean I'm pretty sure I'm still a wreck which – I hope is normal," she smiled, twisting her fingers together.

"It's normal, honey. I'm just glad that you're feeling something other than fear and sadness. You never deserved any of that, Sydney."

Nodding her agreement, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked back up at the strongest woman she knew. "I'm glad I have your help to get over this…over him. I'd probably still be there if I didn't have you and dad – thank you for being my friends as well as my parents."

Laura's eyes spilled over as she pulled her little girl into her arms, the two crying into each other's hair. "Look at us – speaking of emotional wrecks,"

"I'm sorry, mom."

"For what sweetheart?"

"I didn't really realize that staying with him for so long would hurt the people around me. I…I just assumed that if I kept it secret and didn't let it leave the house that – that no one would know and you'd all be safer for it." Sydney wiped at her cheeks, guilt coursing through and settling in her stomach.

"Sydney…you can never know how you're going to react when things go wrong. Your father and I don't blame you for wanting to try and stay in your marriage or for thinking that the man you gave your heart to was deserving of a second chance."

"And a third…and a fourth…and a fifth," releasing a pained laugh at the morbid joke she propped her head up in her upturned hands, the counter cool on her arms. "I just…I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, though not necessary."

Sitting in silence yet again, this situation beginning to be a habit between the two of them, her mother noticed the paleness of her daughter's cheeks. "Are you feeling okay? You look pale," she slipped into parent mode and placed the back of her hand to Sydney's forehead.

"I actually haven't felt that great for the last couple days – maybe it's a bug, maybe it’s stress, I dunno. All I know is that food is really unappealing lately."

"I'll make you something for your stomach."

Standing and preparing a cup of peppermint tea, Sydney couldn't help but smile as her mother doted on her. She also wouldn't admit that she loved it, despite the fact that she'd always hated being coddled. Truth was, her stomach had been doing all sorts of things over the last few days and Sydney couldn't quite figure it out. The sight of food made her queasy and mid-morning to early afternoon seemed to be the worst – which was always when the boys had lunch.

Laura's movements in the kitchen stopped as Sydney's eyes snapped up, realization dawning on them both simultaneously.

"Oh god…"

"Sydney … are – could you be…" Laura was interrupted by her daughter as her face fell into her hands, the words slipping through her fingers.

"Oh…please don't let me be pregnant."

**…**


	8. Wrench

"I feel like a little kid," Sydney grumbled as she sat on the small cot in the doctor's office swinging her feet.

"I feel like an old grandmother." Laura sat across from her daughter with her legs crossed, an outdated magazine in her hands.

"How long does this take!" Fumbling with the strings on the cloth gown she wore she fought down another wave of queasiness as her mother laughed.

"You've already done this twice, sweetheart, it's not like you don't know what to expect."

Sydney laughed, though her smile didn't reach her eyes, and she twisted her fingers together. "It's not that, it…it's everything else around it. I mean – is it a bad thing that I'm terrified?"

"Of course not!"

"Is it also a bad thing that I'm excited? I mean…despite the things that happened; I love my boys, and I know I'll love this baby just as much. But," she paused as her brain tried desperately to find the right words, "on top of all of this divorce stuff, the therapy that dad's signing me up for, being homeless and jobless - it isn't a great time to have a baby."

"Your father is signing you up for therapy?" Laura's eyes left the magazine for the last time, closing and tossing it aside.

"Yeah, I thought you knew. It's with one of his colleagues."

The look on her mother's face suggested that this was news to her, and Sydney sensed a fight between her parents in the future. The conversation ceased however when the elderly doctor knocked twice and re-entered the room, his eyes focused on the clipboard in front of him. Squinting and bringing it within a couple of inches of his nose he gingerly sat in the chair across from his patient.

To Sydney, he'd seemed unchanged since the last time she saw him – administering a tetanus shot when she'd stepped on a nail during a cross country meet during her senior year of high school. The air in the room grew thick as he lifted his glasses off of his nose and pushed the clipboard away in an attempt to read the words. "Damn glasses," he groused, deciding it was working better with them on as he readjusted them and brought the papers within inches of his nose once more. "Well…it looks like you're expecting!"

Laura sent her daughter a sympathetic smile as Sydney composed a fake one of her own to counter the ball of lead that had crushed her stomach into her guts – the small flutter of excitement in her heart by far the tiniest of the emotions she was feeling at the moment.

"Let's see…what day is it?"

Laura shrugged as Sydney tried to think back, "April 18th, I think."

"You should probably have the little bundle around mid-October, from what I can reckon."

"Thanks, Dr. Herberger."

"Anything else, sugar pea?"

Sydney had to laugh at his pet name, the same he’d used when she was a kid, opposite of the tears filling her eyes as she shook her head, the oblivious old man leaving the room so she could get dressed in private.

"Well…I suppose it's not a bad thing that all my clothes didn't come with me – they wouldn't fit in two months anyway."

She dressed slowly, Laura handing her each article of clothing as she heaved a sigh and faced her mother with unsure brown eyes. "Everything's going to be okay, right?"

Flashing her biggest and most reassuring smile she cupped Sydney's cheeks and pushed a kiss to her forehead, tears filling her own eyes and contradicting her assured front. "You'll be fine, sweetheart."

They left the office and jumped in the car, Laura seeing Sydney zone out as she stared at the scenery. She didn't even notice when they passed the road that would take them back home, instead taking the main road into town. When the car stopped moving she seemed to snap out of it, slightly embarrassed that she didn't realize they weren't going home. Her eyes peeked up at the shop they'd parked in front of: "Little Bo Peeps" in big letters on the front window.

"Mom…"

"We're going shopping. Because despite it all, you're my daughter and you're having a baby - my grandbaby. We're going shopping, and that's final."

She could help but give a true smile, one of the first in the last few days, as tears fell to her dimpled cheeks. "Really?"

"As you said – you'll love this baby despite its father. And I start early when spoiling my grandchildren."

An hour later Sydney stood in the newborn section, a small smile curling her lips up as she fingered a pair of tiny shoes. Her mother finally found her, the cart in front laden with all sorts of baby items, as well as a few things her daughter would need.

Sydney rolled her eyes and dropped her hands to her side, "mom, really? You've got another seven months to wait and you're already decorating a room and buying clothes that would fit a two-year-old?"

Laura merely ignored her daughter, "what have you found?"

"I was just wondering what they’re going to be. Boy or girl?"

"What do you want it to be?"

"I love my boys but I don't know if I could handle a third." Her mother laughed at her comment, nodding in agreement about her grandsons.

"I wouldn't mind seeing a little princess sit on your father's lap like when you were a baby."

Nodding in agreement Laura pulled several pink onesies and tossed them in the cart. "But we don't know-"

"So what!" Interrupting Sydney with a flip of her hand she focused her eyes on the young woman in front of her. "Honey…get excited!"

"I am…I…I am."

"Good! Then go crazy! I have your father's credit card."

They laughed as they continued to shop, Laura knowing that Jack would throw a fit at their shopping spree until she'd distract him with an infant's outfit. Much like hers, his heart melts at the thought of their grandchildren, and this addition to the family wouldn't be any different.

The evening was spent in the sitting room. The crackle of the fire made a pleasant noise as Laura held a book, her legs tucked under her body, and her glasses low on her nose. Sydney sat with her eyes closed and hand rubbing the warm back of little Noah as he lay draped over her chest, his thumb tucked firmly between his lips, and his nose pushed against her throat. With her feet propped up on a stool, he fit perfectly against her body, his little sigh making her smile.

"You should put him to bed honey,"

"I know but he's so cuddly. Pretty soon he won't want anything to do with cuddles and be chasing after girls."

Laura laughed, pulling away from her book to fix a wry look on her daughter. "He's two, Sydney. The only girls he likes are you and me."

Sighing and standing, his little mumble the only noise, Sydney carried him up to the boy's bedroom and found Jake sitting underneath the covers, light silhouetting his figure from inside. When he heard the door the light quickly shut off, but she'd seen him already.

"Who's in my little boy's bed?"

Pulling the covers back she spotted him sitting with a flashlight and a glow in the dark book, something no doubt that her mother had picked up today. "I was just reading, momma."

"Really? Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? Didn't papa tuck you in?"

At his little grin, she knew the five-year old had faked Jack out, waiting until his grandfather had left the room before beginning his little under-the-covers reading session. "I maybe tricked him."

"Maybe?" Laughing as she finished getting Noah's pajamas on and tucking him in, she moved to sit by her eldest. "It's okay with me honey, it's not a school night."

"Am I going to school where you did?"

Sydney shrugged, not actually knowing where they would be if she decided to start him back up at a public school. "I dunno, honey. For now, you're going to have me as your teacher."

He nodded, holding his book up as she kissed his forehead and flipped on his flashlight. "Try not to shine it on your brother, okay? I'll check in before I go to bed."

Jake scurried back underneath his blanket, the flashlight coming on for a moment before turning off, Sydney closing the bedroom door and making her way back downstairs.

She heard them arguing before entering the room, wondering if she should go back up to give her parents privacy for their little quarrel.

"You can't just force her into therapy, Jack, you know that! I don't think she's ready."

"Laura, I didn't inform you of my decision because I felt you would react poorly. She  _ needs _ it – whether or not you think she's ready for it."

"Poorly…of course I reacted poorly! Here I was sitting with my daughter when she dropped the 'therapy bomb' into my lap."

"She agreed to it…isn't that enough? She  _ wants  _ to get better, and I know that you want her to move on just like I do. The therapy will help with that more than we know."

Silence reigned, her mother heaving a sigh as Sydney knocked on the wall before entering. "Hey…I – if I could just say something, and don't take it wrong mom – but dad's right. The sooner I get over this, the better. Besides, it's a group therapy thing and it's only eight weeks."

"Thank you, Sydney."

"You should have told mom what you were up to though. You shouldn't have just left it to me to surprise her with it." Casting a scolding look at her father, he blushed a bit before looking over at his wife.

"Forgiveness?"

"Granted," she mumbled, still miffed at him slightly for keeping her out of the loop, but she leaned forward and kissed his cheek anyway. "We have a surprise for you."

Sydney was worried about how her father would react to the news, but once he saw the credit card bill he'd need to be told regardless, so she waited patiently while her mother walked from the room, Jack setting aside his glass of brandy and his book.

"What is it?"

"If I told you-"

"-it wouldn't be a surprise," they finished simultaneously, Sydney laughing and Jack rolling his eyes, Laura reentering with a small wrapped package in her hands.

"What have you two been up to?" Casting a wary glance at his two girls, each displaying varying degrees of excitement and anticipation in their matching brown eyes, he unwrapped the present slowly and carefully.

His large hands dwarfed the tiny outfit, the pink standing out in the dimly lit room as the bold text on the front made his eyes water: "Grandpa's Little Angel".

"Sydney…are - are you having another baby?"

She nodded with tears in her own eyes, a tingling of fear etching its way into her heart and mind. "Sweetheart…that's  _ wonderful _ ."

She released a strangled sob as he stood quickly and engulfed her in his arms and against his chest. "You mean it?"

"Of course!”

Jack cupped her cheek and used his thumb to wipe at the tears, he looked down at the outfit in his hand. "You really think it'll be a girl?"

"I hope so. I'm done with boys."

The small family shared a laugh, Laura breaking the news of their shopping spree to her husband. As she predicted he didn't care, waving it off as 'a small price for his newest grandchild'. The discussion moved to names, Sydney heaving a sigh and reminding her parents once again that it'd be at least three months before they figured out what it was and another seven until they met their grandchild.

"You'd think that I hadn't given you grandkids yet," she laughed and reclined, sipping on the tea her mother had made.

"It's not unnatural for us to be this excited. Do you remember when you told us about Jake? Oh, your mother and I went and nearly bought that place out of any and every boy item they had."

The group was content and silent, Jack and Laura sipping their drinks and looking at the fire while Sydney's mind wandered to the day she first learned about her pregnancy with Jake – the day she told Rick he was going to be a father.

_ Rick woke to a strange noise groggy from sleep as he tried to decipher the numbers on the alarm clock. '3:00', he thought, hearing the retching once more and pushing himself up and out of bed. _

_ He knocked gently on the bathroom door, hearing Sydney toss him a weak, "what?" _

" _ You okay?" Opening it and walking in he spotted her kneeling in front of the toilet with a pale face and watery eyes. "Honey…are you sick?" _

" _ I…I think I'm pregnant." _

" _ What?" _

_ Nodding she clutched her stomach again before clambering to the bowl and throwing up again, Rick kneeling behind her and pulling the loose strands of brown hair away from her face. He let her finish, handing her a washcloth, accepting her full weight when she slouched against him. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, his wife pointing up at the counter where a small pregnancy test sat. _

" _ Grab that, would'ja?" _

_ He chuckled, a ball of excitement expanding from his stomach throughout his body as he reached up and handed her the stick. She wiped at her eyes and sniffled a bit, the test confirming that she was indeed pregnant. _

" _ We're having a baby, Rick." _

_ They shared a heartfelt smile, Sydney's dimples caving in her cheeks as Rick's own lit up the room. "That's great, honey! I can't wait to tell everyone." _

_ Helping her up and patiently waiting for her to catch her balance, he kept his hands at her hips while she brushed her teeth, unable to keep his fingers from tracing her flat stomach. _

_ She spun in his arms, her own wrapping around his shoulders, "You're really excited?" _

_ Rick's answer was a smile and a sweet kiss. "I don't think I've ever been excited about anything more than this Sydney…it's…amazing." _

His excitement didn't dissipate either. Rick's involvement in everything from breathing classes to shopping and picking out maternity clothes to reading nearly every parenting book the library carried still couldn't prepare him for the day he met his son, the tall man passing out in the delivery room after cutting the cord.

A sad smile crossed her lips and she sighed, focusing once more on her parents and finding them staring at her with concerned and understanding eyes.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I…I was thinking about the time Rick and I found out about Jake."

"A happy memory?"

Nodding with a small smile she wasn't entirely prepared for her father's next statement. "Cherish those, sweetheart. Even though he became a man so different from the one you married, don't ever get rid of the good memories. Don't forget that he  _ used _ to be a good man."

"Yeah," she sighed, realizing that her dad was right. Rick may have become a person she didn't know – didn't care to know – but at one point he'd been her husband and the father of her children.

' _ Maybe some memories aren't that bad.' _

**…**


	9. Careening

Michael's hands ran over her back, tangling in her shoulder-length hair as their mouths melded together. He couldn't hold in his moan as her tongue slid against his and he could taste the small glass of wine she'd had mixing with the sting of the bourbon he'd just finished off.

Sydney's hands weren't idle while Vaughn massaged at the loosening muscles of her back, her own finding their way past the barrier that was his button-up oxford. Splaying her fingers over his chest, the warmth beneath her fingers seeping in, she felt his lips leave hers and move down her jaw to the column of her throat.

Sucking at the spot between her shoulder and neck she focused on the remaining buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of its semi-tucked in orientation and forcing it back over his shoulders. He released her for a moment to toss it off behind them, the room swaying as he shook his head – the small voice trying desperately to tell him to stop.

Michael continued to ignore it, his fingers skirting the hem of her t-shirt as he kissed his way across her collarbones and back up to her pouted lips. Their tongues dueled once more as he began lifting her shirt up, the voice getting louder and louder as it finally became his own:

_ "I promise, Laura. I give you my word that my relationship with Sydney will be 100% professional." _

The thought was like ice to his libido, and though he couldn't hide the bulge in his trousers, he did have to put distance between himself and the shocked young woman he'd abruptly pushed away.

"Sydney…we…we can't do this."

**…**

**_One Week Earlier_ **

Sydney slouched on the floor of the bathroom, her stomach emptied of the water she'd been trying to keep down. Willing her queasiness to dissipate she pulled her thighs up to her chest and squeezed them together with her arms. Resting her forehead on her knees she grunted in response to a knock on the door.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Jack's head was the only thing visible, his eyes taking in the slump of his tired daughter's shoulders and the tainted water in the toilet. "Was it this bad with the other two?"

"I think I'm just prone to really bad morning sickness. It's my curse," she groaned, her face still hidden against the fabric of her pajama pants which muffled her voice.

"C'mon, I'll make you some peppermint tea."

Helping her off the floor after flushing the toilet he closed the lid and moved her to sit on it, handing her a glass of water and a swallow of mouthwash. "Your mother had terrible morning sickness with you, you know."

"Really?"

"Indeed. Starting at around eight in the morning and lasting all day for the first three months. It was the only time during the pregnancy where 'regret' and 'your fault' were spoken abundantly."

Sydney couldn't help but laugh before swirling the mouthwash around her teeth and tongue and standing to rinse in the sink. They made their way downstairs, her eyes coming to rest on the old wooden clock in the foyer: 3:25 in the morning.

"What are you doing up this late?"

"More like early. I couldn't sleep so I decided to work on some of your issues with credit cards, house payments etcetera."

Nodding understanding she slid onto the barstool seat and flopped her head down on crossed arms over the counter. "None of my kids share my concept of 'morning'."

Jack laughed as he set the kettle on the stove, Sydney lifting her head and fixing him with worried eyes. "Should we be concerned that we sent Rick the divorce papers two weeks ago and haven't heard anything?"

"At least he stopped calling,"

"Nice try dad. Should we?"

Her father sighed, the screaming kettle giving him a chance to collect his thoughts as he opened up the cupboard and retrieved a mug and a teabag. "It could mean that he's not willing to sign the papers."

"Does...does that mean that I can't get divorced?"

Jack shrugged, "I don't know, Sydney. Michael and Bill are coming over tomorrow - hopefully they'll have more answers for you than I do." Stirring in a teaspoon of sugar he slid the cup across and stepped back, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. His comfortable red terry cloth robe was tied to his waist, the ends frayed, and Sydney smiled remembering when she purchased it for him as a birthday present over ten years ago.

They stayed quiet, Sydney sipping on the tea and thanking her mother for keeping the peppermint in stock as it really was working to calm her stomach down.  _ 'For now,' _ she thought.

"Get back to bed, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning," he muttered through a yawn, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaving the room.

Heaving a sigh she finished her tea, taking the cup over to the sink and rinsing it out. Deciding to wash the rest of the dishes that were left there from dinner she loaded up the dishwasher. Spotting crumbs near the toaster she grabbed a paper towel and the spray cleaner before tackling the counters, wiping them all off until the lemony scent of the cleaner wafted through the room.

Fatigue set in, Sydney flipping off the lights and trudging back upstairs to her room. Falling into bed and curling under the covers she passed out.

**…**

Laura answered the door a few moments after the ring, a smile on her face as she greeted the two lawyers. They were dressed casually, Michael wearing a pair of slacks and a green button-up shirt while his father stood in a pair of jeans and a sweater.

"Come on in, we were just getting breakfast on the table."

Bill led the way, leaving his briefcase in the foyer and clapped his hands together in anticipation. "We always show up at the right time, don't we?"

Jack greeted them as Jake ran into the room flying an airplane and making buzzing noises with his mouth. "Hi, Michael!" After his greeting he was gone again, the sound of his plane noises wafting back from the other room.

They ate quietly, the Vaughn's noticing that Sydney was absent but understanding when Laura said she hadn't been feeling too well and as such hadn't gotten much sleep.

"I'll go see if she's up if you boys would like to do the dishes," she suggested, tossing her hands up as Bill and Jack regarded her with stares that said 'you're kidding, right?'

"I'll clean up, Laura," Michael laughed, standing and gathering the dishes from the pancakes, eggs, and sausage they consumed.

They all heard the "good boy" she'd tossed from the foyer, Bill and Jack escaping to the den as Jake watched the man with big blue eyes. He hadn't gotten up like his brother, scampering off to do heaven knows what, just staying at the table with curiosity written in his face.

"You don't have to stay here, Jake, you can go play if you want."

"You need help?"

Vaughn grinned and waved him over, kicking the little stool in place as the smiling boy jumped up and stuck his hands in the soapy water. "That's too hot for me," his little complaint was coupled by him yanking his hand back, Michael apologizing and adding a bit more cold water into the mix until his little fingers could handle the temperature.

"Alrighty, we need to get these dishes cleaned up a bit to put them in the washer. You want to use the sprayer to rinse them off?" At his avid nod, they began, falling into a routine of Michael using the scrubber to get the plates mostly clean before holding it and letting the five-year-old spray the soap away with a laugh.

Noah ran into the room chasing a large-wheeled truck and, spotting his brother helping Michael, he immediately wanted to help as well. The young lawyer put the toddler to work; handing him the rinsed silverware – minus the knives - and letting him put them in the dishwasher. They worked as a team until the items got too big for the two-year-old to ferry, a small fit being thrown when Michael stopped letting him help.

"Ummm…it's too heavy, Noah. Why don't you help  _ me _ carry it over?"

The tears were immediately gone as his little hands joined Vaughn's on the pan, carrying it to the dishwasher and fitting it in. He clapped his little hands and picked his truck back up, distraction setting in though he stayed in the room with his brother and new friend.

"The cups don't  _ look _ dirty," Jake commented, seeing the shine of the glass as all the juice had been rinsed out.

"You know, you're right. I think we can put them away when we're done."

He smiled, setting the hose down for a minute to wipe his wet hands on his overalls, Michael holding up the last dish for him to rinse. Grabbing the sprayer he squeezed it, realizing all too late that he was holding it sideways. The spray went straight up and into Michael's face, soaking his shirt and forcing him to drop the dish in the sink as he attempted to divert the water until it stopped.

Wiping his eyes he looked down at the boy, expecting to see his blue eyes dancing and a large smile on his dimpled cheeks. Instead, he saw a terrified child with tears filling and spilling from his eyes. His only thought, the only idea, was to laugh.

Mostly because it  _ was _ a funny situation. He laughed out loud and looked at his shirt, the garment soaked through and a shade darker than before. Jake looked confused for a minute until a small smile spread his lips and he looked at the nozzle in his hands. Laughter meant that the man wasn't angry and that he wasn't in trouble. Relief washed over his tiny body as he began to giggle, the laughing growing as he set down the sprayer and picked up the dish, setting it in with the others.

"Sorry," he giggled, Michael waving it off with another chuckle as a thump and a scream filled the room. Vaughn's eyes flew to Noah, who had apparently abandoned the truck – again – to help with the dishes some more. A mug now lay on the floor, thankfully not broken, and two chubby hands covered his face as he cried.

He heard footfall, hoping it was either Sydney or Laura since he didn't quite know what to do in this situation, but reacted by quickly making his way over to where Noah was standing. "Oh, buddy, you okay?"

Lifting him up the boy threw his arms around Michael's neck and buried his face in his wet shirt. "Let me see, pal,"

A muffled and strangled, "no," filled his ear along with another screaming cry as Jack hustled into the kitchen. "What happened?"

"He pulled the cup on his head, but I can't see where."

Explaining over the cries of the infant Michael was instantly relieved to see Laura reenter. "Goodness…I leave you all for a few minutes and look at what happened." Jake stood in front of Michael, his hand reaching as high as he could to pat his brother's leg in an attempt to make the toddler feel better.

Noah kept his grip firmly on the younger Vaughn, refusing to lift his head even for his grandmother. "Owie!"

"Can I see your owie, darling?" The grandmotherly voice soothed even Vaughn, his heart racing and guilt bubbling up as he realized he should have been paying closer attention to the boy.

"No…hurts!" Burrowing farther into Michael's shirt, his large hand rubbing circles over his back, Noah cried.

"What's goin’ on?" At the sound of his mother's voice he pulled away and reached for her, a large knot swelling at the hairline and a smear of blood on his forehead. The blunt crease behind the blond hair was stained red as another drop plopped down to his chubby cheek. "Oh…honey," she cooed, pulling him up and cupping his chin to get a closer look at his eye.

"Sorry, Syd, he just…needed more eyes than I had."

She sent Michael a comforting smile before carrying the crying boy upstairs to the large bathroom she'd spent most of the morning in.

Jake tugged at Michael's wet shirt, "is my brother okay?"

"Oh, he'll be fine pal. Why don't you go play and he'll be back down soon." Needing no further encouragement Jake moved off, grabbing his airplane, before buzzing out of the room.

Laura fixed laughing eyes on the young, green-eyed man, Vaughn following her gaze to his haggard appearance. "Never let him be the one to rinse the plates off," his pointing finger followed the five-year-old zipping away, Jack slapping him on the shoulder and explaining that he'd been victim to Noah doing the same thing two days ago with the garden hose.

Sharing a laugh Laura left to find her uninjured grandson as Jack offered to find Michael a replacement shirt, two of them heading up the stairs. They could hear the sniffles and soft sobs from the open bathroom, Michael peeking in and seeing Sydney placing a butterfly Band-Aid over the little boy's injury.

"How's he doin'?"

"Oh, he's okay. He has a scar on the top of his head from doing the same thing when he first learned to walk. I'm starting to think this kid is a walking black hole – sucking things off of counters and onto his face."

He laughed, Jack handing him a t-shirt. "Why are you all wet?" Sydney questioned, Michael rolling his eyes with a dimpled smile as Noah stuck his thumb in his mouth and waved at the man from his seat next to the sink.

"Your son attacked me with the kitchen sprayer."

"You gave it to him?"

"Hey…they're not my  _ kids _ !"

He shook his head at her laugh, Noah even smiling through his crocodile tears as Sydney finished, placing a gentle kiss above the injury and lifting him up on her hip before leaving the bathroom and flipping off the light.

A slight bout of queasiness hit her, her face paling and she stopped in the doorway to take a deep breath.

"Woah…you okay?"

"Yeah…just…not feeling too good today." She collected herself and flashed him a smile, chuckling once more at his soggy shirt. "Go change your shirt. Now you know to never trust either of my sons with a hose."

Agreeing he patted Noah's back and entered the bathroom behind her.

"We're running into a bit of a glitch here, Sydney," Bill said peering through his glasses at a letter he pulled out of his briefcase.

"He's apparently found a pro bono lawyer to help him and his letter says that he won't agree to anything unless you meet him face to face."

She paled and shook her head, "I can't do that."

"We're trying to work around it, but there might not be a choice here. If you want a divorce you might have to. Now there are things in this letter from the lawyer that…point to Rick making you out as the bad guy. Kidnapping is mentioned – don't worry, alright? The evidence is on  _ our _ side, trust me on that one. Michael has agreed to meet with Rick and his lawyer before we even consider taking you out there."

Sydney bit at the nail of her thumb, her other hand tucking the hair behind her ear. "I thought you said this would be easy?"

Michael sent her a smile, Bill chuckling a bit. "Nothing is ever easy, Sydney, but we were hoping that he'd just agree to everything and be done with it. However, now that we know that isn't the case we'll deal with it. I didn't want to make you worry but I did want you to be informed about the situation."

"When are you meeting with them?"

"Tomorrow afternoon; I’ll fly out tonight and get things prepared. If the lawyer knows what's good for him he'll drop this case after seeing what Rick was  _ actually _ like. We're not relying on 'he said she said' here, Syd, we're going for the killing blow – as it were."

The young woman agreed with a nod, Jack interrupting as he entered with a knock. "Am I allowed in for this one?"

"Of course, Jack. We were just filling Sydney in." Bill peered down at his watch, seeing Michael do the same. "Well, we should get going. We'll call you in a couple days and let you know how it goes, alright?"

"Okay. Hey…be careful, Michael. Not…not that I don't think you can take him – just – be careful."

"Don't worry about me, worry about him." She laughed as they excused themselves, Jack taking up the elder Vaughn's seat.

"You okay?"

She shrugged and hung her head, forehead in her palms. "I don't know why I thought he'd make it easy,"

"Sweetheart, he won't be able to convince a single person that he deserves to have you or the boys in his life. You know that."

She nodded, flashing a genuine smile when Laura walked into the room holding a sniffling Noah. Pushing away from his grandmother he settled onto Sydney's lap and cuddled into her chest, a rather large bruise beginning to form on his forehead.

"Let's just continue with our week, alright? Michael will take care of Rick and his lawyer, trust me. He's like a bulldog."

"I'd love to see it if I wasn't such a wimp."

"Facing someone that abused you so much would be hard for anyone, honey. You'll have your moment, alright?"

' _ I'd still love to be there…' _ she thought as she pressed a kiss to the top of Noah's head.

**…**

**_24 hours later_ **

"You must be Michael Vaughn; Stanley Fuller." A tall young man stuck his hand out as Michael entered the room, taking it quickly and setting his briefcase down.

The second his eyes fell on Rick he had to push down the urge to punch him in the nose. He sat in an old t-shirt, tattered at the ends with holes littering the front of it. His hair was disheveled but Vaughn couldn't help but see similarities between him and little Jake despite his haggard appearance and the scruffy beard on his face.

The boys are _ the best things to come from this asshole. They’ll never become this kind of man, that's for sure.' _

"Good afternoon, thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Where's Mrs. Montgomery?"

"Ms. Bristow is still at her parent's home. I asked for this meeting without her to ascertain your intentions."

"I didn't agree to this – I said I'd do this if Sydney were here. She stole my kid and robbed me blind - I deserve to have her tell me why.”

"Why don't we talk about Ms. Bristow for a moment, hmm?" Michael opened his case and lifted up a manila folder marked 'Angels Mercy'. "I read the letter that Mr. Fuller prepared and I realized that you had left out a few details. I assume that was a mistake. Luckily, I remembered them."

"Mr. Vaughn, the simple fact is that Mrs. Montgomery kidnapped my client's child in the middle of the night. Coupled with stealing his credit cards I don't think that my accusations in the letter were unwarranted."

"The  _ hard fact _ , Mr. Fuller, is that Sydney Bristow ran away from Mr. Montgomery because of nights spent like this," tossing the full-color photo across the table toward the lawyer, whose eyes immediately flew to the man sitting beside him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement in his chest. "I take it that these kinds of things were left out of Mr. Montgomery's statement?"

"Would...would you give me a moment alone with my client, please?" The tenseness in his voice almost matched that of his jaw.

Michael agreed, snapping his case closed and exiting quietly.

"What the hell are these photos, Rick?"

"It was a car accident. I gave you pictures of the car!"

"She was in the car? Why didn't you tell me that?"

Rick shrugged as the lawyer met his gaze with piercing hazel eyes. "You will tell me the truth from here on out. I'm doing this as a favor to you because we’ve been friends since high school. If I find out that you beat your wife and kids you’ll have more than just a divorce on your hands."

Rick shrunk under the man's glare, watching as he readmitted Sydney's representation.

"My client assures me and says I can call several people on this list for evidence that this…trauma on Mrs. Montgomery was from a car accident. I have photographs of the wrecked car as well as a statement from a Rebecca David, the children's babysitter and Mrs. Montgomery's long-time friend confirming the accident."

"I have Sydney Bristow's statement as well as the log from the paramedics that recorded her removal from her  _ home _ , not a wrecked vehicle. Oh…I also have the recording of the 9-11 phone call made by a frantic four-year-old little boy who found his unconscious mother on the floor of their living room. Can you imagine that? A toddler finding his mother bloodied on the floor, barely breathing, having been beaten by his terrifying father with a baseball bat." His fierce green eyes pinned Rick to his seat, the lawyer sighing and leaning back in his chair.

"Not convinced that your client is in the wrong here? Let me make it…abundantly clear for you." Tossing them both a photo of Jake, the cell phone image not pristine but not grainy enough to miss the large bruised welt along his cheek. "You beat...this precious little boy…with your belt."

Rage filled Rick's eyes as he rose quickly, knocking the chair back to the floor. "Hey, fuck you, man! You don’t know anything about me or about my relationship with my wife. I never laid a finger on her unless she needed it, and when she needed it, I put her in her place. Her and the little brat.”

Mr. Fuller rose, collected his papers, and sent a scathing glare at the outburst from the man he'd agreed to defend. "Good luck, Mr. Montgomery." Turning his face to Michael he reached out and shook the young man's hand, "I’m sure it’s not much, but take everything he's got."

With that, Rick was alone; his arms flopped down to his sides as Michael began gathering his papers together.

"I should have known that she'd run to her daddy. There's no way in  _ hell _ that she could afford you unless she paid with pussy."

Vaughn fought the anger rising in his chest, forcing himself to continue putting away his papers. "I would have helped her for free."

"I’m not signing this shit. She doesn’t get to win. She doesn’t get to take my kid away from me."

Michael finally responded though he knew it was what Rick wanted. “You keep saying kid. You do remember that you have  _ two _ children, don’t you? Or have you been so drunk his whole life that you completely forgot about Noah?”

Rick faltered slightly, a frown marring his already disgruntled face. “Fuck you. You tell her that if she wants me to sign this shit, that she needs to tell me this herself. She always comes back to me, lawyer man. She’s  **_my_ ** wife.”

This was fast toeing the line, and Michael knew it wouldn’t take much to push him past. "Listen to me you son of a bitch, I'm not telling her anything. You sign the papers or I will nail your ass to the wall. I have enough evidence against you to put you in prison for years where you can learn what it's  _ like _ to become someone’s punching bag."

"She’ll come back, and she’ll bring me my kids."

"It’s over. Those children will  _ never _ call you father.  _ You _ fucked up, not her. She’s ending it; it’s over.”

Rick slammed his fist on the table, leaning over menacingly as he tried to intimidate the green-eyed man. “Those are my kids. She has no right to take them from me.” With his proximity he smelled the liquor on him, and gave him a once over from top to bottom. How the lawyer had missed the unmistakable bottle top sticking out of the man’s pocket he’ll never know, but it was now clear as day that the abuser was mostly drunk.

“You’re a drunken fool that lost his family. The amazing thing is that now Sydney doesn’t have to worry about you, she’s actually happy. The boys are actually happy. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you ruin that, Rick.” Michael shook his head as he turned to leave, Rick's words freezing him in his tracks, sliding him over the line he’d been trying to keep from crossing.

"I'll go to her if she won't come to me."

Vaughn set his briefcase down and turned a protective glare on the angry man across from him. "If you go near her, or the children, you won't have time to regret it."

"What…a restraining order?" Rick scoffed, moving around the table to square off with the lawyer. "I've gotten around those before. Tell her that I can't  _ wait _ to see her."

The punch was thrown before Michael could think, his body going into autopilot as he sucked in a heavy breath over the prone, bleeding figure at his feet. "If you have any brains, you'll stay down."

Grabbing his case and straightening his jacket he paused with a hand on the knob to chance a glance at the broken-nosed man. "Sign the damn papers tomorrow or you  _ will _ be seeing me again…understand?"

Without waiting for an answer he left.

**…**


	10. Repercussions

Sydney was startled by a knock at the door. Soft though it was she heard it from the kitchen and left her warm cup of peppermint tea to enter the foyer and look through the peephole. Not knowing what to expect made her all the more surprised to see a tired Michael Vaughn standing absent any light on the front porch. Unlocking the door and opening it slowly she fixed him with worried eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Look, I'm sorry to come by so early – or…late," he groused realizing he had paid less attention to the time than he'd thought after seeing that it was two-thirty in the morning. "I had to get you these papers."

She waved him in and led him to the kitchen. "Would you like some tea?"

"Something stronger if you've got it handy."

She grinned as he slid onto the stool she'd vacated, smelling the mint of the tea. "Peppermint, huh? My mom would make that for me all the time when I had an upset stomach as a kid."

"That's kind of why I'm drinking it. I'm trying to con my stomach into letting me sleep the rest of the night."

"I’m sorry you're not feeling well, Sydney. That sucks especially when you've got all this other crap going on,"

"This time isn't so bad, it was  _ way _ worse with Noah."

"What?"

She turned and spotted the confusion, his green eyes going wide when he realized what she was talking about. "Holy shit, Sydney. You're not pregnant are you?"

Laughing and rejoining him at the counter she nodded. "That was my reaction when I figured it out, but despite it all, I’ve figured out how to be excited."

"I just spent the afternoon with Rick and ended up punching him in the nose! How could you have sex with that guy?" His gasp mirrored the horror on his face at his thoughtless mouth. "Woah…I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't have said that; that was way out of line."

"T. But it was the one time that I wasn't getting hit, you know?" He nodded slowly, flashing an apologetic smile in an attempt to rid the thought from his mind.

"I just…wow…hadn't thought of that curveball."

Fisting the glass of bourbon she'd handed him he took a long gulp, the alcohol burning his throat as it went down.

"You…you really punched him in the nose?"

Michael laughed and showed her his bruised knuckles. "Yep. After his lawyer left of course. He deserved it."

"I have no doubt."

She spied the fatigue and the slump of his shoulders, the bags under his eyes telling her that he'd been getting about as much sleep as her.

"Michael, you could have waited until tomorrow for this stuff. You should go home and get some sleep."

Taking another strong sip he shook his head, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a blue piece of paper folded up around several others. "I've been working for the last three hours at getting this damn thing approved and signed by a judge – which they didn't appreciate. It's a restraining order, alright?"

"Is this the result of the punch in the nose?"

"Oh no…the meeting went remarkably well. After showing the evidence that he was an abuser his pro bono lawyer told me to, quote, 'take everything he's got'. There were...things that he'd said that made me want to get this done quick."

She took the papers in one hand while taking a sip of her tea to quell her stomach with the other. "What do I need to do?"

"I've got some things for you to sign if you could, and then I'll get out of your hair."

They moved into the living room and flopped down on the couch. "Self-explanatory?"

"Yep – just sign where it says."

She read through bits and pieces, realizing that this was mostly just about her being aware that she had a restraining order against Rick.  _ 'Probably to cover myself an extra little bit just in case.' _ Finishing up she lifted her head and found her companion sleeping soundly on the couch beside her.

"Michael? " Rubbing his shoulder he roused slowly, Sydney pulling him off the couch and leading him up the stairs and to her room, her hands his shoulders driving him all the way over to the bed.

He sat him down on the edge of the bed, his eyes drooping as his head bobbed. He dimly felt her hands unbuttoning his blazer and sliding it down his arms until it was gone. Deftly she undid his oxford as well and removed it much the same way, the white undershirt clean and soft.

"I'll leave you to the belt, stay with me okay? This could get awkward for one of us if you fall asleep."

He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like 'I got it' before fumbling around until his belt was undone. She slid his feet out of the business shoes and kicked them aside, helping him stand as he struggled with his trousers.

"I'm supposed to be helping  _ you _ out," he drawled, Sydney laughing as she gripped him by his upper arms, the muscles rippling below her hands as he succeeded in the removal of his pants feeling them drop around his socked feet.

' _ I didn't even think to ask if he was wearing any underwear. I mean…why wouldn't he? But still…I probably should have asked.' _

"Good thing I wore underwear today, huh?"

She laughed out loud as his words echoed her thoughts, her arms pushing him back onto the bed and pulling the blankets up over him. "You've taken care of me plenty, it's my turn now."

"G'nite, Syd." He was already asleep when he spoke, Sydney taking a moment to brush a strand of flyaway blond hair from his forehead.

"Nite, Michael."

Tucking him in and hitting the lights she exited the room to see her mother standing with rumpled pajamas and hair and a curious look on her face.

"Michael brought a restraining order – apparently Rick made some threats. He wanted to make sure I had it."

Laura merely cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the newly closed door of her daughter’s bedroom. "He fell asleep on the couch while I was signing some papers and I brought him up here, so don’t panic if you see him tomorrow. I’m gonna sleep with Jake."

Squinting in a half scowl she turned and went back to bed, Sydney rolling her eyes before making her way downstairs to clean up the kitchen. Flipping off the lights she went back up to climb in beside her eldest, the boy snuggling into her. Remarkably, her stomach was sound.

**…**

Giggling brought Vaughn out of his slumber slowly, his mind vaguely remembering the previous day and night. His last memory was Sydney and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips at the thought of her tucking him in as if he was one of her sons. Burying his face into the soft pillow begging for a few more minutes of blissful sleep, he smelled a sweet floral scent and frowned, looking around he realized that she’d tucked him into her bed. The scent surrounding him was her perfume or shampoo, or a mix of both. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

Another bout of laughter made him realize that he wasn't alone. Cracking one eye open he saw two blonde heads drop down to hide beside the bed, his eyelids feeling a bit like sandpaper.

"Alright…who's hiding in here?"

"Get him!" Jake hollered before vaulting onto the bed, Michael sitting up and catching his flailing legs before a foot landed somewhere unwanted. Helping Noah up as well the wrestling match started. Tickles created giggles and pillows were tossed about, the fun stopping at Sydney's voice.

"I thought I told you two not to go in here!"

"Nah, that's okay, Syd. I should probably get up and get out of here anyway," he muttered, the boys breathing heavily, strewn over his legs and lap.

"Come play, momma!" Noah beckoned her, the adults sharing a laugh.

"Come on, grandma's making breakfast. You're welcome to join us, Michael."

Grabbing them off the bed and heading from the room, Vaughn couldn't help but grin as he rose and dressed, sneaking into her attached bathroom to wash up a bit. Running a hand through his disheveled hair he clicked his tongue and shook his head knowing that it would be a bed-head kind of day.

Jogging down the steps he entered the kitchen with a smile. "Hey, thanks for letting me crash here last night. The plane back and running around getting that restraining order of wiped me out."

"Perfectly fine, Michael, you know you're always welcome here if you need." Jack passed him a plate as they sat down to eat.

Halfway through breakfast, Sydney's cell phone rang, the room getting quiet.

"Syd, if it's Rick, just hang up. Don't even talk to him – he's not supposed to be contacting you in any way."

"Hello?" There was a brief silence on the phone before a woman's voice filled the other end.

"Hello. Is this Mrs. Montgomery?"

"Yes, it is…may I ask who's calling?"

"Ma'am my name is Charlotte and I'm a nurse at Angel of Mercy. I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Noah began throwing a fit, Sydney rising and leaving the room quickly to catch the last part of the woman's sentence. "What's the bad news?"

"Your husband was in a traffic accident early this morning; his injuries are very severe. The doctors don't think he has much time left. I am so sorry."

Sydney felt as if the air was sucked from her lungs, but she couldn't quite put a finger on the emotion most present. Sadness was currently in the lead. While she had slowly been falling out of love with him for over a year, she couldn't help but think about the times when he had been a good husband and a loving father.

"Umm…how – uh – how long do they think?"

"A day, maybe two. His organs are failing quite rapidly."

"I'll…see what I can do. We're going through a…messy divorce and I'm in New York."

"I understand. You were on his emergency contact list, and his parents haven't replied."

"Thank you," she mumbled, hanging the phone up and staring at her shaking hands.

A hand on her arm made her jump and drop the phone, the clatter not going unnoticed by the occupants in the other room. "Sydney? What's wrong?" Laura immediately honed in on the distress in her daughter's eyes.

"Rick…he…"

Her mother interrupted, "you weren't supposed to talk to him, Sydney!"

"No, he...he was in an accident. They...don’t give him much time."

Jack and Michael stared at the foyer entrance where the two women had disappeared, worry written on both faces.

"Papa Jack, can I go play outside?" Jake tugged on his grandfather's sleeve as the older man plastered a smile on his face.

"Not quite yet, you both need to finish your breakfast." His words were directed at his grandson but he was still staring and waiting for Sydney or Laura to return and announce the phone call the younger had received.

Away from the curious eyes and ears, Laura held back her surprise. "Sweetheart, what are you going to do?"

"I have to go to L.A."

"What? Why?"

Sydney faced her mother with incredulous eyes as a frown wrinkled her forehead. "What choice do I have? He's dying."

"Let him die."

Laura crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to her daughter before beginning her ascent up the stairs.

"Wait a minute; what's wrong with you? This isn't like you." Taking off after her, Jack and Michael shared a concerned look though all they heard were elevated voices and stomping feet.

Jack clapped his hands catching the attention of everyone at the table. "Boys, why don't we go outside and feed the horses? Run and grab your shoes, alright?"

Jake looked down at his footie pajamas before meeting his grandfather's eyes with his big blue ones, "papa, we can't go out in our jammies".

Jack grinned, helping Noah out of the booster seat as the two-year-old bolted off to the entryway to grab his shoes, deftly sliding them onto the wrong feet. Jack stood and followed, Jake's hand engulfed in his.

"Michael, stay here and see what that phone call was about. But," he paused, poking his head back into the kitchen, "give it a minute. You don't want to get in the middle of two Bristow women fighting."

Finding himself alone at the kitchen table, he heard the shuffling of the doctor with the two boys, the clicking of the door, and then silence – save for the muffled and elevated voices above him.

' _ Umm…dishes. I can do the dishes.' _ Standing and gathering the plates up he made a few trips to the sink before pushing up his sleeves and getting started.  _ 'I should start getting paid for this; I've done them three times this week alone.' _

Stalking into the boy’s room, Laura tossed over her shoulder, "Sydney, why do you feel like you owe him something?"

"I don't feel like I  _ owe _ him anything. I'm going to have to sign paperwork because I'm still his wife."

Laura tossed her arms up as she crossed to Jake’s bed. When she was angry or upset, she cleaned – a trait that her daughter had inherited. Taking the quilts and tossing them on the floor, Sydney watched with her arms crossed over her chest while leaning against the doorframe.

"At least,” she sighed, “that’s what I’m telling myself. I keep going over what dad said…to cherish the good memories. Once upon a time, he  _ was _ a good husband; a good father – and despite what he's done, I can't ignore that he deserves to have someone there when he dies."

Her mother wasn’t so swayed by her naivete. "He's a monster, Sydney. He tried to kill you."

Huffing as she pushed off the frame she joined the fray in stripping Noah's bed of the sheets and pillowcases, the pile between the two women growing.

"You don't need to tell me what he did, mom, I was there. You don't think he deserves someone to be there when he dies?"

"Why would I think that when I _know_ what he did to you? What does _that_ _man_ deserve from you other than having you there to pull the plug?"

"Mom! I…I can't believe that you of all people, the most caring woman I know, is standing there saying things like that."

Laura stopped what she was doing and looked up at the light fixture above her head. Trying to push back her emotions and see it from her daughter's point of view was proving difficult. "He…he doesn't deserve your love, Sydney."

"Whether or not that’s true, it doesn’t make me feel any different."

Whipping about mother confronted daughter, "what do you want me to say? That I'm okay with you going and seeing him? Well, I'm not going to say that! He is getting  **exactly** what he deserves, Sydney Anne, and you  **know** it."

Sydney tossed the pillows back into the crib in frustration as her brown eyes filled with tears. "I know it's stupid, okay? Tell me again how stupid I am for loving him!"

The anguish in her daughter’s voice instantly stole the wind from Laura’s sails. "Honey…I – I didn't mean it like that, I just-"

"No, mom – you  _ did _ mean it like that. I’ll be eternally grateful that you don’t understand later, but right now, I’m just telling you that it’s not as easy as you want it to be. I  _ know  _ that he's a bad person, but that’s something he  _ became _ ! He wasn’t always like this, and _ that's _ what I'm choosing to hold on to.  _ That _ is the only reason I'll go say goodbye.”

Wiping in frustration at the tears coursing down her cheeks, the younger continued, “I'll say goodbye to who he  _ used _ to be. It's the only thing that's going to keep me sane! I keep asking myself how I could love someone that didn't love me back, but he did! He loved me! And  _ that _ person deserves to have me there."

They stood silently regarding one another, Sydney's tears spilling out over her cheeks as Laura dropped her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm the last person that needed to make you cry. I'm sorry, honey."

Walking the four or five steps or so she pulled her daughter into her arms as they stood together and cried. Moments later they pulled apart, mother cupping her child's cheeks, "I just want you to think, honey. Do you want to drag your kids out to L.A. to see the man they're so afraid of just because  _ he _ screwed up?"

Gripping her mother's wrists she pulled her face free, moving away only slightly to sit on the edge of the bed. "No – I'll go by myself, I couldn't do that to them - they don't need to know anything about this."

"You most certainly will not go by yourself – you don't need to be alone going through something like that."

"When will you stop treating me like a little girl?"

"When you stop  _ needing _ it from me!"

Sydney sighed, her fingers wringing together in her lap as tears dripped from her cheeks into her jeans below. "I'll never stop needing you, mom, but right now I need you to let me make this decision."

Laura shook her head, "you made the decision to stay with him when I told you to leave. You don't make good decisions when it comes to Rick."

Those words stung more than most. "That's not fair!"

"It wasn't fair to  _ anyone _ , especially to yourself! Sydney…I love you, but I think that this is a bad decision."

Shaking her head, her hair bouncing around her shoulders, the young woman relented. "What…what if Michael or Bill goes with me? Will that make you feel better? If I take along a bodyguard will you be okay with me leaving your sight?"

' _ Michael and my daughter alone for who knows how many days in L.A. is something I'm almost more uncomfortable with than her going by herself.' _

As if being summoned, the younger of the Vaughn’s knocked on the door wearing a sheepish yet concerned look on his face. "Hey, I don't mean to barge in or anything, but whatever you need I'll help. I don't know what this fight is about, if it's private kick me out, I don't need to know. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask. I…I don't know much about kids and to be honest, they scare the crap out of me – but I'll babysit if you need me to."

The two emotional women couldn't hold in a laugh as they wiped simultaneously at their wet cheeks.

' _ He gave you his word that nothing would happen,' _ Laura thought for a moment before sighing and nodding. "Sydney will fill you in. I'm gonna go check on Jack and the boys." Stepping from the room Michael let her past with a confused look before his green eyes landed on the young woman's face across the room.

He let her stand quietly for a moment to gather her thoughts, his shoulder against the frame much in the same position as she had been in moments before.

"Syd, whenever you're ready you can fill me in, no rush, okay?"

"Umm, I…I think – hang on," she muttered, hand coming up to her lips as she darted into the adjoining bathroom before collapsing onto the floor in front of the toilet.

Flinching as she retched he sighed and followed. Grabbing a washcloth off the counter and wetting it he filled a nearby glass with water before crouching down beside her, his hand moving to rub circles over her back as she emptied her stomach before propping her forehead against the edge of the seat.

"Is pregnancy always this much fun?"

"Whee," she replied before tipping back to lean against the wall with her eyes closed, the smile leaving her pale face.

"Here you go," he grunted as he stood, holding out the washcloth and the glass of water before leaning against the sink and crossing his arms again.

"Thanks," Sydney mumbled as she wiped at her face and took a large gulp of the water. Content to sit on the cool floor she took several deep breaths. "Rick's gonna die."

"What?"  _ 'Good,' _ Michael thought, though he didn't voice his opinion – which he assumed was the cause of the fight between mother and daughter earlier.

"He got into a car accident and he's in the hospital. That," she paused with a sigh, "that was the phone call I got. They're giving him a day…maybe two." Her eyes were still closed which allowed the youngest Vaughn to focus on her features, something he hadn't allowed himself to do.

"How do  _ you _ feel about the whole thing?"

She laughed, a wry calloused sound, before opening her eyes and meeting his gentle green stare, "conflicted probably doesn't do it justice but it's good enough for right now. I think that I need to go, you know? But…maybe mom's right – maybe it's a bad idea."

Nodding he broke their gaze, his moving to stare at the bath towel hanging on the rack, the blue water and yellow rubber duckies almost a distraction against the pure white of the cloth they were on. "I get it, okay? No one just falls out of love immediately especially with someone you decided to spend your whole life with."

She cocked her eyebrow while squinting her eyes, "but," she mumbled, pressing him to finish his thought.

"But nothing, I'm being honest." Sliding down against the wall he flopped to the floor across from her. Crossing his legs at the ankle he folded his hands over his stomach. "No one here has a clue to what's going on in your head or what's going on with your emotions. No one but you, Sydney. It'd be stupid of me to voice my opinion because it's not  _ my _ opinion you need. Or Laura's…or Jack's."

The conversation paused again, Sydney going back to resting her head against the wall with her eyes closed as Michael once again was offered the opportunity to stare at her.

"You decide what you can handle. No one else can make that decision but you."

"I’ve failed so many times, Michael." She growled in frustration as she picked her head up and more tears filled and spilled. "I've made so many bad decisions that I...maybe I don't deserve to make them anymore."

His laugh was soft, “we can't make them for you, Sydney. You don't want someone else telling you how to live your life-"

"Maybe I do," she interrupted. "Maybe that's what's best for me."

Michael sighed and shook his head before meeting her sad brown eyes with fiery green ones. "It's just you, Sydney. This is the one place that you're alone in this whole mess and you have to be.  _ You _ have to be the one to figure this out."

She picked up her knees to her chest and pushed her face into the soft fabric releasing a series of sobs, Michael's heart ached for her but he stayed put, letting her cry a bit before she calmed down again.

"Just because you have to figure it out on your own doesn’t mean you have to live it on your own. You’ll never  _ be _ alone, you know that. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, and I know that I could make you feel better instantly by telling you what to do – but…as much as I want you to feel better I don't want to lie to you about where you're at in this whole mess." He maneuvered himself until he was sitting next to her, reaching and taking her hand into his as her splotchy face turned to him. "Just make the call and I'll go with whatever you decide."

"It's…it's not you I worry about; it’s not you I need to convince."

"Please, I'm a lawyer. Do you really think I can't sweet-talk them into anything? I play almost as many mind games as your dad."

She couldn't help but laugh, her fingers twining through his as she squeezed his hand. "I…I want to go to L.A."

"Then let's pack."

"Really?" Despite the words he'd just spoken she couldn't contain the surprise in her voice.

"Really. C'mon," he ordered, hefting himself up and reaching both hands out to her.

Accepting them she allowed him to pull her off the floor, instantly wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. "Thank you." 

He wasn't sure what to do – at any moment Laura could walk in and catch him with her daughter, but his arms moved as if he didn't have a say in the matter. Wrapping around her he held her tight for a moment, hands splayed over her back and rubbing small circles with his fingers.

Pulling back a bit he brought one hand up to cup her cheek, thumb catching one of her tears and brushing it away. Michael was lost for a moment, her sad brown eyes had changed to a hopeful mocha and he couldn't help but let a smile tilt his lips. "Let's go to L.A. I'll get the paperwork done quick and easy and we'll be back here before you know it."

She nodded and flashed him her dimples before pulling out of his hug and pressing a kiss to his unshaven cheek. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, Jack's voice calling for the boys not to run. Sydney made her way back into the room and over to the laundry as Michael hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, a smile breaking his lips as Jake and Noah came scampering in to dive into the pile of blankets and sheets in the middle of the floor.

Laura and Jack stood at the door to the room, her mother speaking first. "What'd you decide?"

"I'm going to go to L.A., take care of the things there. Michael said he'd come with me to make sure the paperwork was done and we'll be back in a few days. This…this is something I have to do."

Laura nodded and turned away, Jack winking over at his daughter with a small smile before following after his upset wife.

' _ This is going to be a long day,' _ father and daughter thought simultaneously.

**…**


	11. Goodbyes

Sydney chewed her thumbnail nervously as the pilot announced their descent into Los Angeles. Her stomach was a tumultuous mess though with the seatbelt light on she knew she wouldn't be able to rush off to throw up as she'd already done half a dozen times since the light was first turned off.

' _ I'm not sure if it's morning sickness or nerves. Seeing as it's three o'clock in the afternoon, it's probably not still morning sickness.' _

Michael couldn't help but watch as she fretted, knowing that the next couple of days were going to be the hardest, yet he couldn't keep his happiness at bay. Yes, she still loved the man her husband used to be – he understood that perfectly. However; the man he  _ used  _ to be was dead and the man he  _ became _ was dying, and for that Michael was happy for the closure being afforded to her and the boys.

The plane landed with a jostle on the tarmac, the pilot pulling up to the gate as the two passengers gathered their things and exited into the warm sun of Los Angeles. The rental car was waiting for them out front, Michael groaning as he saw it was a Prius.

"Really? The place where SUVs roam free and we get a Prius."

A smile formed on her mouth as they tossed the luggage in the back and jumped in, the drive to the hospital putting Sydney's nerves even more on edge. She didn’t have much of a thumbnail left but was still nervously chewing at it while her knee bounced.

"You okay? I didn't want to bug you on the plane, but now would be the time to ask questions if you have any." Silence was her answer but she gave a tiny shake of the head as she watched the buildings pass by. "Are you hungry?"

"If I talk I think I'll throw up, let's just get there, okay?"

Her request was soft but audible and Michael went quiet once again, the rest of the drive painfully slow due to the lack of conversation.

The hospital was bustling, Michael dropping her off at the entrance with instructions to get directions and wait for him in the lobby. Sydney agreed as she walked quietly into the foyer and up to the front desk.

"Hello, I'm looking for Richard Montgomery's room, please."

The large woman sighed and set her tabloid down, clacking at the keyboard with long and extravagantly painted fake nails. She stopped and looked up at the brunette before her. "Are you family?"

"I'm his wife."

"Floor six, room 6147. Take those elevators up to four, and then switch to the elevators across the hall to get to six."

"Thanks," Sydney muttered, the receptionist going back to her magazine as Michael walked in at a brisk pace.

"Hey, did you find his room?"

She nodded, her face pale as they jumped into the elevator, her stomach turning a loop as it started to rise. Leaning back against the steel wall she closed her eyes, opening them to look at the man next to her as he reached out and took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers.

His reassuring smile grounded her as they transferred to the other set of elevators and ended up on the sixth floor.

**…**

A loud thump reverberated through the living room, Jack and Laura sharing confused glances as they peeked over at Noah sleeping soundly on the couch. "Must be Jake; I'll go check on him." Jack folded his paper up and climbed out of the comfortable chair, leaning down to pull the blanket back over his two-year-old grandson before going off in search of the older brother.

He heard rustling and more thumps the closer he got to the boy's room. Peeking through the semi-open door his eyes widened at the sight of the small boy jumping on his suitcase in an attempt to close it so the zipper would work. Packed to the brim with toys and a pillow, Jack knocked on the door as he leaned against the frame.

"Jake, what are you doing?"

The little boy froze when he heard the knock, but when he spotted his grandfather he climbed down off of his suitcase and ran crying into his legs. "I can't get it closed, papa!"

"Why do you need to, big guy?"

"Cuz I have to go save mommy!"

Jack hefted the child up and carried him to the edge of the bed, perching Jake on his lap as he sat on the soft comforter. "What do you mean?"

"Daddy is a bad guy like in my books. He says a nice thing and then he gives her owies. He's going to hurt my mommy. I hafta go be her hero!" Jake covered his eyes with his hands as he cried, Jack pulling him close and rocking him back and forth.

"Oh, Jacob, nothing is going to happen to your mommy. She didn't go back home to be with your daddy." The grandfather paused, remembering his promise to Sydney to keep Rick's situation secret from the boys until she got back from L.A. to explain everything to them.  _ 'This is one promise I'll have to break.' _

"Jake, look at me." It took a moment but Jack managed to pull the little boy's hands away from his face and get his big blue eyes to meet his. "Your daddy…he got into an accident. He's…he's going to go to sleep and can’t wake up."  _ 'Or rather not, but Jake doesn't need to know the ins and outs of the folly of choosing bad deeds over good ones.' _

"What?"

"He…he's going to go away."

' _ Good lord, I'm a psychologist and I can't find the words to explain death to a four-year-old.' _

Jake stopped crying, though a few hiccups slipped out, and Jack could feel his little body loosen from its previously tensed position. "Forever?"

"Forever. Plus, Michael went with your mommy, son, you don't have to worry about her, okay?"

Jake nodded but stayed quiet and Jack could almost see the gears turning in the little boy's head as he tried to mentally digest what his grandfather had told him. The two of them sat quietly, Jack hugging the boy to his chest as the child held onto his grandfather's arm around his middle.

Chancing a glance, Jack noticed that the boy had fallen asleep, his wet cheeks slowly drying. Standing carefully he turned and placed him in his bed, pulling the blanket over his small tired body and pressing a kiss to his forehead before exiting the room.

**…**

"Sydney, we've been standing out here for fifteen minutes. You're going to have to go in there eventually."

The doctor had already met with them saying that Rick's situation was grim and that he'd be lucky to survive the night, let alone tomorrow. Sydney had signed, with Michael over her shoulder, the appropriate papers needed and the two were left standing in front of the open door with the faint beeping echoing out into the hallway.

"I'm scared, Michael."

"Of what?"

"I don't know…but…I," she paused as tears fell down the courses already plotted, "I feel like a terrible person."

The youngest Vaughn was quite confused, shaking his head and leading her back into the small waiting room around the corner. "Why do you feel like a terrible person?"

"Because I…I don't feel bad for him." She sobbed, Michael pulling her against his chest as her head fell against his shoulder, and she continued to vent her frustrations with a voice muffled against his blazer. "I should feel bad because I used to love him, but now he's going to die and I…I don't feel bad."

Michael rubbed her back and let her cry, "You don't have to go in there. We signed the papers and made the hospital aware that you two were divorcing and that you were no longer his emergency contact. We can go to your house and grab whatever you want and get on the first flight back to New York."

"No…I…I want to say goodbye." He barely understood her but pushed her back with a nod. "Will…will you go with me?"

Wiping at her cheeks she sniffled, feeling like a small child asking to sit on her father's lap when she was scared. Michael just smiled and took her free hand letting her lead the way.

The room was dark, the blinds drawn and not allowing any sunlight onto the deathly pale and bruised figure on the bed. Bandages adorned every viewable piece of skin, both legs elevated in casts with his right arm over his chest in another soft cast.  _ 'No need in making them full hard casts if he's just gonna die is there,' _ Michael thought.

Sydney's grip on his hand tightened as she moved closer to the bed. The pumping sound of the machine keeping his lungs inflating was distracting and she couldn't help but glance at all the machinery he was hooked up to with a wince. Not intending it to be an internal dialogue she just stared at his bruised, cut, and broken face with crying brown eyes.

' _ Look what you did to yourself, Rick. You were a good man once, and I…I came to say goodbye to who you used to be. I didn't want to agree with my mom when she said you were getting what you deserved, but I remember waking up in this same hospital bruised and beaten and…I can't help but see it from her point of view.' _

She paused her thoughts and let go of Michael's hand, pulling a chair up and sitting next to the bed quietly. Vaughn took that as a cue to slowly and quietly exit the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

"I…I didn't deserve the things you did to me, Rick. Neither did the boys. You…they – they deserved to have a father that loved them." She paused and tore her eyes away from his face to focus on her lap.

"I…I forgive you for what you did to me. No, I don't know why, but…I can't forgive you for what you did to our kids. Jake…you hit Jake with a belt, Rick. I…I can't forgive you for that."

She sat quietly for a few more minutes, brushing once again at her cheeks while wiping her nose with a Kleenex she'd been crumpling in her hand. "I'm pregnant. With…with a baby you'll never get a chance to meet. I'm – I'm okay with that honestly; I wouldn't want him or her to know you."

Sighing, she stood, hands folding and tearing at the tissue clutched in her grasp, "goodbye, Rick."

A sense of calm washed over her, and a feeling of resolution back-filled her heart. Opening the door she saw Michael jump up from his seat with concern shining in his green eyes. Sending him a reassuring smile she sighed and let him pull her into a hug.

"I…I actually feel pretty good right now. Is that bad?"

"Hell no, that's great." He scolded her gently while leading her back to the elevators. "Wanna stop by your house?"

"Yeah – I promised Noah I'd grab his Muck-Muck; a silly dog that my dad got him for Christmas when he was a baby. Plus I'm going to need all the maternity clothes I stashed away. I should probably call a real estate agency,” he watched her slowly descend into unlimited questions mode, moving a hand over hers on her lap to pull her out of the downward spiral.

“Let’s do one thing at a time, okay? Let’s get breakfast and head over to your place and just see what would be easiest to pack up. The real estate stuff we can look into when we’re back at the hotel. There are a lot of things you can do over the phone back in New York, so let’s backburner that for a few days and just concentrate on packing. Deal?”

Sydney exhaled with a soft smile. “Yeah - yeah. One thing at a time.”

“One thing at a time,” he repeated and put the car in gear as she typed the address into the cell and they left the hospital.

**…**


	12. Cobwebs

Getting into the hotel, unpacking, and then eating an early lunch had all but wiped her out. Michael knocked and heard nothing, moving into the room slowly and cautiously and finding her asleep atop the coverlet. He grabbed an extra blanket and draped it over her back before leaving to his room to finish some paperwork.

She didn’t wake until dinner time, and though she said she was still tired, they'd silently eaten dinner together while watching a movie in her room before she tucked herself into bed halfway through the flick and he let himself out to his room across the hall. She'd looked weary if the bags under her eyes had been any indication, and he wasn't surprised by her early turn in.

The next morning, having not yet received a call from the hospital, the two headed over to the house. It was a quaint little townhouse end unit that had big picture windows in the front. Children's books were scattered on the wooden sill, Sydney explaining that it was Jake's reading nook as she fumbled in her purse for her keys.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it that I left my keys back in New York?"

Michael laughed seeing she was in a better mood than the night before. This morning she actually looked refreshed and a brightness shone in her eyes that spoke of resolution.

"Back door?" He asked lightly and they made their way around to the other side of the house on the sidewalk to the right.

"Oh, Sydney, dear! I haven't seen you in weeks! How was your family vacation?" The elderly neighbor called out from her patio garden as Sydney rounded the corner with Michael in tow. "You must be a friend of Rick's?"

_ 'Hell no, _ ' Sydney and Michael thought at the same time, unbeknownst to the other.

"Actually I'm Sydney’s lawyer. We just came to pack things up here at the house." He smiled cordially, attempting to look as professional as possible. It wasn't hard as the only thing he'd brought with him were three suits along with accompanying shirts, ties, and slacks. So the dark blue button-up tucked into the charcoal grey pants did make him look a bit more professional than jeans and a t-shirt.

The older woman cooed as Sydney mentally scolded him for starting neighborhood gossip. "Oh dearie, I'm so glad."

"Thanks, Mrs. Tally. We're on a bit of a tight schedule, so if you don't mind, we should get packing." The woman saw quickly that Sydney wasn't in a talking mood and made her way back to her patio with a dismissive wave.

"Good to see you, dearie. Come around again soon, we love that little Jacob!"

Michael saw her smile a fake smile as she made her way through the small, gated yard and up the walk to the covered patio of the house. "Not likely," she whispered, the frown on her face lightening up as he chuckled behind her. "Ugh, it's locked."

Vaughn looked around, picking up a loose rock from the long-dead garden and using it to break the little window above the doorknob. "Breaking and entering, Mr. Vaughn," Sydney joked and he laughed, tossing the rock onto the other side of the patio.

"I know a good lawyer," he responded and the peal of laughter from her lips made his heart light. She stuck her smaller hand in through the window and unlocked it from the inside, pushing the door open and walking into her home.

A funky smell lurked in the kitchen, the trash can overflowing mostly with bottles and cans, though pizza in boxes sat molding on the countertops scattered around empty or half-full bottles of beer. She pushed past the kitchen and into the living room, finding ever more bottles and cans tossed on the floor and on every available flat surface. The cream-colored carpet was covered in blotchy stains. She attempted to flick on the light seeing that there wasn't any power, which didn't surprise her as the bills sitting on the table near the door were stacked so high they were tumbling off onto the floor.

"You'd think we owned a liquor store," she grumbled sadly, setting her stuff down on one of the armchairs and heaving a sigh.

"We'll get it cleaned up. When is that realtor coming by?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I think."

Michael nodded. "I'll grab the boxes from the car and the trash bags and we shall begin the great purge."

His enthusiasm made her feel better, though she felt small and lost standing in the living room by herself. It simultaneously was and was not her living room, much like she assumed the rest of the house looked. Along the mantle above the fireplace were bottles of whisky, most empty though some still had liquor floating in the bottom along with cigarette butts, and on the tile below were pieces of glass and broken picture frames from the photos that had once lived on the shelf. Lifting them gingerly she found the pictures of her and the boys and she put those into her purse across the room leaving anything with Rick's face on the floor among the shards.

As Michael reentered they set out to get the trash out of the home before starting to pack anything. "We could make a fortune on recycling," he joked, attempting to keep everything more upbeat. As the day dragged on the disarray of the home was beginning to weigh on Sydney. Several times Michael had to pull her out of a memory or a moment standing and staring at a particular part of the home. Things went quiet and he turned to peek into the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, seeing her looking with glistening eyes at a depression in the drywall of the hallway. She wasn't sharing any stories and for that Michael was thankful, but he knew she would break if she kept internalizing things as she was doing.

"All that's left is…the fridge, you wanna help?"

Not knowing how long the power had been out meant that the refrigerator had been sitting for who knows how long with who knows what inside. She shook her head but it worked to jar her from whatever memory she was having. She opened the door to the basement and stopped for a moment at the landing, looking to the spot where Jake had been sitting in time out after his father had finally struck him. She could almost see him sitting there in the dark at her feet and her heart hurt for the millionth time that day – that hour. Closing the door she decided to skip the basement and walked through the kitchen, her face was slightly pale. She leaned against the counter for a moment before tossing the mostly full bag out onto the patio through the open sliding glass door.

"Now or never," Michael ground out with a brave front, making sure the kitchen windows behind him were open. He flung the door open and, with a relieved sigh noted that it was pretty much empty save for an unopened six-pack of beer, a closed Tupperware filled with mysterious green and white mold and a grey liquid at the bottom, and what may have been oranges at some point, he wasn't sure.

"That could have been a lot worse," she mumbled and took a breath, the counter once again supporting her weight.

"Wanna take a break?" He saw her shake her head. "We could check out upstairs if you want," he offered and the two of them grabbed new bags before hitting the steps. "You okay? You look a little pale."

"You sound like my mother," she joked, a dimple showing on her right cheek as she avoided his query. "I'll be alright. There's just a lot of memories in this place."

"Make sure you're taking time for the good ones," he said as he looked right to see the master bedroom and left spotting the boy's room. "I'll go left. You holler if you need me, okay?"

Heaving a sigh and chalking the rumbling of her stomach to nerves, she walked closer and closer to the bedroom. Stepping through the doorway was like walking through a portal into the past. Not a single beer bottle or can could be found and the bed, though unmade, wasn't covered in dirt, grime, or blood. Many nights after being gone late he would climb into bed in muddy or dirty clothes, boots and all, and his blood-stained face from the bar fights would stick to the pillowcases she changed daily.

This room was almost untouched.  _ 'Maybe he'd been so drunk he couldn't get up the stairs. Maybe he just lived in the lower part of the house.' _ Discarding the trash bag on the floor she sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room quietly for a few minutes before falling back against the soft blankets. Her bed was something she'd been missing. While the guest room at her parent's home was comfortable, it just wasn't  _ her  _ bed.

She couldn't keep the memories out no matter how hard she tried, and they began to flood into her mind behind her closed eyes.

She could always tell when he wanted to have sex. He'd go three, maybe four days without drinking and he'd be home with the boys, laughing and playing like he used to before he'd turned into the wife-beater that he'd become. Because that's what he was, she reminded herself, looking into the mirror as she got ready for bed those nights, running her finger over the healing scar under her eye, or the one along her arm, or any of the many fading bruises visible after the removal of her makeup. Those were the moments she waited for; those times were when he wasn't the violent and hot-tempered man he'd become, but the sweet, tender, and gentle man she'd married six years earlier.

He'd enter the bathroom behind her, his hands tracing the lines of her waist before pulling her back against his muscled frame. She'd catch his eyes in the mirror and see love and a hope of forgiveness in those blue depths. Those nights she wouldn't trade for anything in the world because on those nights, he was her husband again. He'd lead her to the bed and hold her close, his mouth and hands relaxing her tense body as she fell into the familiar sea of trust. He'd make love to her two, sometimes three times those nights, and no matter how tired she was, she would will herself not to fall asleep before him, to take whatever love he still had that wasn't locked away behind the alcohol and the self-loathing and claim it for herself. The longest was five days. Five days in a row filled with the family man during the day and the careful lover at night. This was a couple of months after the baseball bat incident, so apparently, he thought he had a lot to make up for.

_ ‘That was two and a half months ago,'  _ she thought as her left land settled over her stomach, knowing that was the time their newest had been conceived. A course of antibiotics was to blame, she'd figured out, knowing that she'd find her birth control in the bathroom medicine cabinet right where it was each morning when she took the little white pill before heading to school.

She felt the tears leak down her temples as she shook her head. That man was who she'd said goodbye to at the hospital, and in her memories, that man would stay locked away forever.

**…**

Michael entered the boy's bedroom seeing a small car-shaped bed on the far side of the room and a crib on the other. The bed looked unkempt; the blankets were tossed about haphazardly and a brown teddy bear sitting on the blood-stained pillow. For a moment he felt anger rise up thinking that Jake had somehow been hurt worse by this man, but realization dawned on him that Rick must have been staying in this room, at least for a little while. His dirty boots were kicked off to the left of the doorway and a change of stained clothes were on the floor near the small open hamper.

Standing at the end of the bed on a tripod was a video camera, and on the floor by one of the spindly legs sat an empty bottle of whisky, the only bottle in the room.  _ 'Looks like he mostly drank downstairs.' _ He set the trash bag on the changing table to his right and moved farther into the room. The video camera intrigued him, and he unhooked it from its spot on the tripod and opened the video viewer on the side. It was digital, so as it booted up he fumbled through them menus until he came across the memory card storage.

Several files were dated within the last week, but everything before that seemed to be spaced out sporadically. It was clear they'd had the camera for several years, so he turned the volume down, peeking at the door with a slightly guilty look on his face, and pushed play on the last video on the list, recorded two days ago.

Rick's face was the majority of the image, the man looking haggard with sunken eyes and about a week's worth of stubble on his face. His cheeks were wet as if he'd been crying, and a large open cut on his left cheekbone bled slightly, the tears grabbing and streaking blood down into his facial hair.

"Well, it's been three weeks. You're not coming back." A pause, "I mean, I figured you wouldn't. Why would you?"

There was a long pause as he pulled the camera away from his face. The image showed that he was sitting on Jake's bed leaning against the wall. His voice wasn't slurring, which struck Michael as odd. He must not have been drunk while filming this particular video.

"I miss you. I mean…I know I'm shitty – I know I'm a piece of shit. I know I don’t deserve you, but – but I didn't think you'd really leave, you know? We had some good times, didn't we? Wasn't that enough to offset the bad shit?"

_ 'No.'  _ Vaughn frowned, almost speaking out loud over the quietly playing video.

"I miss my boys too…Jakey and – and the little one. God…what is his name? Why – why can't I remember," he looked away from the camera for a clue in the room, and Michael realized that for almost the entirety of Noah's life his father had been an abusive drunk. The man in the video leaned down and reemerged with the unopened bottle of whisky, pulling it up against his chest. He sniffled and wiped at a tear before continuing.

"I don't want you to come back. I know that...that sounds weird, but I want you to stay away. I'm sorry for everything I did, you know? I don't remember everything, but I know I hurt you and I don't forgive myself for it."

Another pause as he picked at the seal on the bottle, pulling it off with deft fingers but leaving the lid intact. "I want you to do something for me, okay? I – I know I'm not…not in a place to ask any favors, but please hear me out. D-don't tell my boys who I am, okay?" He sobbed lightly, a fresh tear trekking down his left cheek and turning red with blood halfway down. "Tell them anything else. I mean…Jakey is only like…two. He won't remember me. And Noah is a baby…he won't – won't remember who I am. Just…please, Syd. Tell them I – I died driving a fucking race car or something. Or - or that I went on a damn safari and got eaten by lions or some shit. Don't tell them who – who I am now…that I'm the guy that fucked their lives up – fucked  _ your _ life up."

The crackling of the lid snapping open, Michael watched as Rick lifted the bottle up and downed almost half in the first few swigs. He felt the burning in his throat and stomach even if Rick didn't, amazed that someone could drink that much hard liquor without his body rejecting it outright.

"My friend and I are going to have one last night of partying," he said after a burp holding up the bottle into the frame as 'his friend', "then I'm gonna sober up and move on with everything. I don't wanna see you or the boys again – and I know you don't wanna see - see me. So…ummm…" A hand moved in front of the lens and blocked his face as his fingers fumbled for the record button.

The video ended and as he looked at the date again he realized that was the night of the accident – the phone call the next morning to Sydney coming from the hospital where he lay in traction. He'd polished off the entire bottle of whisky before jumping behind the wheel of his car and slamming into the bridge down the road going nearly seventy miles per hour, according to the police report.

He closed the view screen on the camera and turned it off, flipping it around until he found the memory card slot. Pulling the card out he slipped it into his pocket to give to her later, maybe when they got back to New York. Rising, placing the camera back onto the tripod, he made his way slowly and quietly out of the room. The carpet padded his steps as he walked the hallway to the master bedroom and spotted her lying on the bed, her legs folded at the knee and hanging off the end. Her hand was resting on her stomach and tears had fallen from her eyes soaking into the hair past her temples.

Michael leaned against the frame of the door feeling somewhat hesitant at disturbing her. While the look on her face certainly wasn't happy, it definitely wasn't upset or angry. Maybe she was trying to dwell in the good memories as he'd suggested earlier.

The rumble of her stomach seemed to cease for the moment so she sat up and wiped at her face before she stood and moved to the closet and tossed the doors wide. The dirty hamper was about half-filled with their mixed clothes and a strong whiff of his cologne assaulted her senses.

A bout of queasiness hit and she couldn't push it back. Stumbling across to the bathroom with a hand over her mouth she didn't quite make it to the toilet as she lost her nearly empty stomach into the sink. "Shit," she grumbled as her knees wobbled, her hands clutching the counter in a vain attempt at keeping upright. Her stomach lurched once more as her knees buckled, and at that moment she felt a strong arm around her waist keep her from hitting the floor.

They stood like that for a few moments as she finished purging her mostly empty stomach, dry heaves settling in as she mentally cursed herself for not at least drinking something while they were cleaning. All the while, Vaughn's hand was splayed across her clenching stomach as he held her firmly upright against his chest, stomach, and thighs. She reached a shaky hand out to turn on the water and rinse the sink only to find the water also shut off.

"Let's call it a day." His voice was quiet and calm, reassuring, and he let go of her hair a moment to hand over a dry washcloth, his arm still wrapped around her waist making sure she was steady.

She nodded feeling as if all the energy had drained from her body in those few minutes. Peeking at the clock hanging on the wall to her left she noted that it seemed to be the only thing working in the whole house and it read 2:02. They'd been working for hours and had skipped lunch. Not that she was particularly hungry anyway, but she was now paying for the bad decision to not put something into her stomach. She attempted a step away from him on her own but her body wasn't ready to work quite yet. Fortunately, he hadn't let go and pulled her back to his chest before she got too far.

"Sorry…I – I don't know-" she shut her teary eyes tight against the spinning of the room and let her head fall back against his shoulder drawing in a shaking breath as a sob came out.

"Let's sit for a minute, okay?" He wrapped his other arm around to act as a circle and slid his back against the smooth wall behind them. She folded willingly and ended up against his chest cradled between his legs on the tile.

She kept her eyes closed and her head against his shoulder as she took in deep and shaky breaths, sobs hurting her already tense stomach. She calmed after a few minutes, Michael's left hand rubbing her arm in small circles as his other arm was still wrapped around her stomach pulling her close to the warmth of his body.

"I'm sorry." His voice was a whisper.

"I – I wanna leave." That was her only answer as she pushed away from him trying to sit up. Reaching her hands out her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edges of the sink in an attempt to pull herself up. Without his hands pressing against her back she knew she wouldn't have made it, but she mentally forced herself to push the remaining queasiness down and force her legs to get her out of the room as fast as possible, the young man on her heels.

Stepping through the front door and onto the porch she gulped in several deep breaths and sunk to the top step of the small set of stairs leading from the walkway to the porch. She closed her eyes and let the sun hit her face to begin drying the tears. She felt him sit beside her.

In a shaky voice she mumbled, "thanks for being here." The moment was broken as her cell phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out staring at the unknown number for a couple of rings, Michael taking it from her hand and patting her on the shoulder before walking out toward the car.

"Is this Sydney Montgomery?"

"This is Michael Vaughn, Sydney's lawyer. How can I help you?"

"This is Angel of Mercy and I just wanted to let her know that Rick passed about an hour ago. Do you know if she is going to want to come in to claim the body for the funeral arrangements?"

"She will not be making those arrangements. Those responsibilities will fall to Mr. Montgomery's family. Thank you for calling and notifying us."

He turned back to look at her, finding her a few steps away walking toward him. "Was that…the umm -"

"Yeah. He…he passed about an hour ago." He saw her brain processing the data through the emotions that flickered across her features. Her eyes were distant and almost a dull brown, nothing of the resolved brilliance from this morning. "Let's go back to the hotel and relax for a bit."

"But we have so much to do," she groused, gesturing back to the home. She flinched as he reached out and took her hand, not expecting his touch. He pulled her close and into a protective embrace.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I'm sorry about everything," he whispered as at first she stood stiffly in his hug, but soon he felt her give in and sob against his shoulder, her hands wrapping around his waist and locking behind his back. One of his hands cupped the back of her head as the other rubbed the tense muscles of her lower back.

He swayed gently back and forth for a few minutes until he felt her heave a sigh. Pulling away slowly he cupped her cheeks and sent her a soft smile. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

She nodded against his hands, her right hand coming up to rest over his for a moment until they fully broke apart. "I'm hungry," she mumbled, Michael laughing at the deft change of subject.

He led her to the car and opened the passenger door for her. Once she was settled he ran back into the house to close the front and back doors before jumping in and heading back to the hotel. The drive was silent and he noticed about ten minutes in that she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep against her folded arm on the window.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he realized it was Sydney's and that he'd spaced giving it back. Seeing 'Mom' in bright flashing letters he answered.

"This is Michael."

"Oh, good, I'm glad you answered," Jack's voice rang in his ear. "How's everything going?"

"Umm…it could be better. We're in the car headed back to the hotel and we just got the call that Rick passed. Being at the house hit her pretty hard; I wasn't really expecting it to be so rough."

Jack nodded knowing the younger Vaughn couldn't see, "I thought it may be a bit difficult. Can I speak with her?"

"She's sleeping right now; want me to wake her up?"

"No – no. Let her sleep. Have her call me tonight, okay? Jake wanted to talk to her."

Michael nodded, "I'll have her call, Jack. Anything else?"

"Oh, Laura wants to speak with you."

_ 'Great…here comes another lecture.' _ "Sure, put her on."

He heard their voices for a moment, Jack explaining that Sydney was sleeping and they were headed back to the hotel, but that didn't seem to deter the mother from putting her voice through the earpiece.

"Michael?"

"Hi, Laura. How is everyone doing?"

"We're fine here. I just wanted to…to mention something to you while I've got you. If my daughter needs anything…I want you to handle it."

"I know, Laura. I'm handling as much as I can, but there are some things she needs to deal with on her own that we just can't help her with." Sydney shifted against the window, a small sigh escaping her lips before she settled back into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

"You remember what we talked about, right?"

_ 'There it is.' _

"Of course."

She paused, her voice breaking through once more. "Professional. You promised."

"One hundred percent."

“Yes, Mrs. Bristow. I promise.”

"No matter how broken she gets...one hundred percent."

Michael sighed, stopping at the red light and looking over at the sleeping woman beside him folded like a small child in the seat. "It's nothing like that and it won't ever be – I gave you my word. I'm here as a lawyer first and a friend second."

"Good. Take care of her, and stay safe." She hung up the receiver as Michael sighed and slipped her phone back into his breast pocket before pressing on to the hotel. Fatigue was settling into his shoulders and an air of depression acted as growing clouds in his mind.

_ 'You're just here as her lawyer.' _ He resolved.

_ 'But Rick died…she doesn't need you to help her get divorced any longer. Technically…she doesn't even really need to be regarded as a client from here on out.'  _ His brain was trying to convince him of something, he wasn't sure what it was yet.

_ 'But – I can't think of it that way. I'm here as  _ **_her_ ** _ lawyer…I'm here to help her get things in order.' _

_ 'Sure. Is that why you’re doubting everything you’ve said to Laura?’ _

_ ‘I was being honest. I don’t want any kind of relationship other than a friendship with her daughter.’ _

He scoffed knowing that his resolved thought was simply not true. He was completely taken by Sydney Bristow and he knew it – he was just desperately trying to deny it because of how off-limits she was at the moment. Her bravery, her resolve, her smile, her laugh, her brokenness – it all made him want to hold her and make the bad things in the world go away.

"You okay?" Her voice jolted him out of his daydream and he jumped slightly as the silence of the car was broken. He saw the apologetic smile she sent his way seeing that her eyes were a bit brighter than when they'd left the house.

"Yeah – sorry. Just lost in thought."

"Good thoughts?"

He wobbled his head back and forth with a grin, "some. You feeling okay?"

"Still hungry. Michael…I'm sorry that you're stuck here with me going through all of this crap. You don't have to be here – I know there are probably a million more important things for you to be doing this week. Why don't we just load up some big boxes and ship them home and fly back when we're done packing?"

"If that's what you want to do, that’s fine. I don't regret being here, I hope you know. Your family and mine have been friends for ages and there's nothing we wouldn't do to help you out. It's not just a job for me, Sydney. I want to help. I want to make things right for you, you know? You're…family."

She squeezed his arm and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Enough depression…let's get an early dinner, watch a stupid movie on TV, and then I can pass out on that mostly uncomfortable bed in my hotel room."

"Sounds so glamorous," he joked seeing her laugh. "I'm proud of you for today, Syd. I know it was hard to go through the house and see all the little things that bring up both the good memories and bad, but I want you to know that I just…I just admire the amount of strength you have in you at any given moment."

She blushed and looked away. "I don't feel very strong," she admitted.

"You are stronger than anyone I've ever known. Now let's go eat bad hotel food and sleep for ten hours."

**…**

The only glow in the room was the television as it flashed images across a silent screen. The room still faintly smelled like the food from earlier, though the scent that washed up to his nose was from the soft perfume that Sydney spritzed on each morning. His position was a precarious one and he knew he was walking a thin line over a deep abyss, but he couldn't have left her alone earlier – she'd begged.

_ She began nodding off, her eyes drooping through long blinks. _

_ "C'mon you; into bed," Michael ordered, grabbing the styrofoam containers and setting them onto the table. The clock read 4:45 but he was fairly sure that once she was out she'd be gone well into tomorrow. _

_ The blankets were pulled up to her chin with care, but he wasn't expecting her hand to shoot out and catch his wrist. "Please stay…please? I – I don't want to be alone right now. If…if that's okay? Just – just 'til I fall asleep?" _

_ He'd nodded and sat on the edge of the bed with her, her hand firmly held between his. _

He didn't recall how he'd ended up lying next to her or how her body was so flush against his despite the blanket that acted as the barrier between them, but his arm was around behind her head and her breath was steady against his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he was both terrified and thrilled in the same moment. He'd lain that way for almost four hours, the clock nearing 9 p.m.

She shifted beside him, her breath changing as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. He tilted his head down to look at her confused face. "Hey, you passed out just after we ate,"  _ 'and then I just crawled into bed with you.' _ His mind scolded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I – I didn't mean to-" she mumbled sleepily as she untangled herself from his arm and sat up, the blanket dropping down to pool around her waist. She set a hand to her flushed cheek realizing how intimate their position had been a moment ago.

"It's okay, Syd. You looked so comfortable I just didn't want to move you." The sound of her stomach growling broke the awkward pause between them and she turned to peer over at the clock, seeing that almost five hours had passed.

"Did – did you lay here the whole time?"

"I slept a little too." Michael lied and rose to stretch. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm actually hungry again," she admitted, Vaughn laughing.

"Name it."

She put in an order with him, surprising him with the last request: a half glass of red wine. "Hey – doc says I can have a half a glass once a week, so I'm calling it in. This is my once a week day."

He didn't argue and left the room with a smile. She sat back down on the edge of the bed as thoughts zipped through her mind, one being the conversation she'd had with her mother as she was packing a day or so ago.

_ "Be careful, okay sweetheart?" _

_ "It's not like I'm going alone, mom." _

_ "No…I know, but – that's…that's what I'm talking about." Laura closed the door of the bedroom behind her and stood facing her daughter with pleading eyes. "Just don't let your - emotions get the better of you." _

_ Sydney stopped packing and turned to give her mother a confused look. "My emotions get the better of me? Like how?" _

_ "You don't really know what you're walking into over there, Sydney, and the only person you'll have to ground you is Michael. I just don't…don't want to see you – you know…do something you'll regret." _

_ Her brown eyes went wide, "are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" _

_ Laura's voice got defensive as she busied herself helping her daughter fold some of her clothes. "I'm not suggesting anything." _

_ "Yes you are. You're really standing here telling me not to sleep with Michael Vaughn." _

_ Laura blushed and chose to focus on folding the shirt in her hands instead of tossing her a reply. Sydney's sudden laughter made her stop and chance a glance, seeing the young woman fall back onto the large bed with a big smile. "You know mom, a good day is when I manage to cry less than a dozen times and spend less than half the waking hours throwing up. Trust me when I say that sex doesn't even top the list of a dozen things I need to get taken care of in my screwed up life." _

_ A laugh passed from behind the lips of the elder Bristow woman and she let herself fall down next to her daughter, the two lying side by side. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm too overprotective, I know." _

_ "That's a good thing, mom. It shows that you care. But seriously, no shenanigans, I promise. Sure Michael's gorgeous and kind and will probably do anything I ask," she left off seeing her mom's head whip around, relaxing only when seeing the joking gleam in Sydney's eyes. "Sometimes it's too easy, mom." The pillow hit her square in the face muffling her laughter as Laura rolled her eyes and left the room. _

She hadn't thought of Michael in that way until her mom had brought it up. Now it dug at her a little bit more each moment they spent together, and it was certainly bubbling to the surface after waking up in his arms.

_ 'Push it down; we don't need this right now. Rick just died and you know you're just looking for someone to help you get over that part of your life. You don't need a rebound guy, you need no guy. You literally don't need that in your life right now. Besides…how attracted to you could he be? You've thrown up in front of him a dozen times in the last few days and cried all over everything he owns. You are not what he's looking for.'  _ The "Laura Bristow" part of her brain, as she called it, was the logical and factual part that she tried to let loose as often as possible.

_ 'How bad has it been though – spending time with a guy that didn't smack you around? It's been nice, hasn't it?'  _ The "Jack Bristow", embrace your emotions and desires part of her brain kicked in a response.  _ 'I mean, he's been there every step of the way, right? He doesn't seem to care that you throw up and he doesn't seem to care that you cry. In fact, he seems to want to make you feel better, doesn't he?' _

The door lock whirred and the object of her thoughts came in with a smile. "Dinner is served!"

_ 'Thank god. Maybe I can just eat and then call it a night. He'll go to his room and I'll stay here and tomorrow will be less emotional. That's probably it. I'm just emotionally drained right now and he's offering comfort. Don't look further into it, don't over-analyze things. You're an emotional wreck right now and you're trying to cling to kindness.' _

"Thanks," she sighed as he set the meal in front of her before blessedly moving to sit in the chair at the small table on the opposite side of the room. The glass of wine was delicious, and the turkey sandwich was hitting the spot as they ate quietly, the television still muted. The problem with her plan was that she was now suddenly and unexpectedly wide awake.

Her eyes were focused on the little pieces of turkey left behind in the cardboard and she poked at them with a finger. She chanced a glance his way seeing his eyes focusing hard on the rim of the glass, the brown liquid inside probably bourbon, their father's sipping drink of choice. He seemed to be following in Bill's footsteps in more ways than one. She swirled the last mouthful of wine past her teeth and set the glass onto the nightstand.

Michael rose and packed up the trash, "man, I feel like I've been picking up trash all day," he joked, seeing a soft smile pass her lips. "What's next, Syd?"

She looked up, seeing him standing above her. Her heart fluttered for a moment before she pushed it back. "What?"

"Did you need something else? I can turn on a movie or something for you if you'd like," he offered seeing how dazed and out of it she was. There was a new gleam in her eyes and he couldn't quite figure out the emotion she was exuding other than confusion. "You okay?" A slight purple was seeping into the brown of her iris' and he found it fascinating.

Her cheeks looked flush instead of pale, the opposite from earlier in the day, and he absentmindedly reached out a hand and set the back against her cheek. The wince that closed her eyes for a moment hurt his heart. "I'm sorry…I – I'd never hurt you. You know that, right?" He checked for a temperature but realized that he didn't actually know if this was how you check for a temperature at all.

She pulled his hand down between hers with a sweet smile letting the ball of fingers drop to her lap. "I know, Michael, I'm sorry – I'm kind of out of it. Long day, you know?" She looked up at him with moist eyes, "you're a good friend. All my…shit that you put up with…"

"Look at that; half a glass of wine and your mouth turns sailor."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, Michael content to just stand next to her as she held his hand. "I'll tell you what I'd love," she mumbled looking back down at the blanket. "I'd love a hot bath."

"Deal. I'll fill the tub and then leave you to it."

Extracting himself from her side he moved to the bathroom, the rather large oval tub gleaming white in the brightly lit room. He cranked it to hot and hollered, "how hot do you want it?"

_ 'That could be taken so many ways.' _ "The bath."

Sydney laughed as she pushed away the confusion and emotion, "you ever cooked a lobster?"

"Gotcha." Leaving it on hot he stepped back and let it fill a bit, dipping his hand into the water to make sure it wasn't scalding.

_ 'You should go, you know. Before bath time.' _ He agreed with his thoughts for once, and as soon as the tub was half full he shut the water off.

"Alright, Syd, you're good to go. I'm – I'm gonna get on outta here, okay? If you need me you…know where to find me, alright?"

He was hollering as he stepped out of the bathroom nearly running into her as she stood just outside the door to his left, the yelling unnecessary. The smile on her face was light as he apologized.

"Thank you again, Michael. I know for a fact I couldn't have done today without you." She twined her fingers together over and over again as she broke their gaze to look at the odd colored shapes on the carpet of the hotel room.

His brain warned him not to get close – to bolt out that door and not come back, but he once again pushed it back arguing back that maybe she needed something else from him before he left.  _ 'You remember what Laura said – anything she needs, it's your job to provide.' _

He reached his hand out and waited a moment until she responded with a smile and placed her fingers against his palm. She walked into him for a hug, her forehead pressing against his shoulder as she guided his arm around her waist. "You're the only thing that's kept me sane all day," she mumbled into his oxford as her hands moved up against his back and she breathed deep the scent of his cologne.

He pulled back a bit and cupped her cheek, seeing the purple in her eyes once more. He started to tell her again that she should give herself more credit, but he was cut off as she leaned up and pressed her lips against his. She was soft and tentative, completely unsure about everything at the moment, and that included this kiss. Responding slowly and gently, Michael kissed her back.

She broke away for a moment as her eyes reopened and she shook her head – the Laura Bristow brain kicking into gear and telling her to back off, that this wasn't the right way to get out her pent up emotions from the long hard day she'd just experienced. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breathy against his mouth. She didn't have much time to apologize however as Vaughn's hand pulled her back in and he pressed his mouth against hers once more.

She felt like she was floating – his kiss was slow and languid, his tongue flicking against her bottom lip for a moment before he pulled back. Their shaky breaths mingled between them, neither taking the risk of opening their eyes. They stood together in the foyer of the room, the steam of the bathtub making the mirror fog up and lick at them from just inside the doorway.

Michael cracked open his eyes seeing emotions flitting across her face and for a moment he thought he could convince himself to let her go and go to his own room. But as she opened her eyes and met his uncertain gaze her hands made their way down to his lower back as she stepped closer into the circle of his arms, bringing her body flush against his before stepping up and kissing him once more, a bit more insistently.

Michael's hands moved from around her shoulders down to her lower back and he felt a heat growing in his chest as her hands moved and deft fingers began undoing the buttons of his shirt. His fingers tangled in her hair as their mouths melded together. He couldn't hold in his small moan as her tongue slid against his and he could taste the wine she'd been drinking mixing with the sting of the bourbon he'd just finished off.

Sydney's hands weren't idle while Vaughn massaged at the loosening muscles of her back, her own finding their way past the barrier that was his button-up. Splaying her fingers over his chest, the warmth beneath her fingers seeping in, she felt his lips leave hers and move down her jaw to the column of her throat.

Kissing the spot between her shoulder and neck she focused on the remaining buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of its semi-tucked orientation and forcing it back over his shoulders. He released her for a moment to toss it off behind them, the room swaying as he shook his head – the small voice trying desperately to tell him to stop.

Vaughn continued to ignore it, his fingers skirting the hem of her t-shirt as he kissed his way across her collarbones and back up to her pouted lips. Their tongues dueled once more as he began lifting her shirt up, the voice getting louder and louder as it finally became his own:

_ "I promise, Laura. I give you my word that my relationship with Sydney will be 100% professional." _

The thought was like ice to his libido, and though he couldn't hide the tenting of his trousers, he did have to put distance between himself and the shocked young woman he'd abruptly pulled away from.

"Sydney…we - we can't do this." He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, opening them as he felt her hands slip from his bare chest. "I'm sorry…I – I'm so sorry. I just-"

"No, it's my fault. I – I started it. I was…just feeling…" she left the end of the sentence off as she focused her eyes on his collarbone, unable to look him in the face as embarrassment and shame sunk into her chest. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, Michael opening his eyes and cupping her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

Stepping forward he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Good night, Sydney. I'll see you in the morning." The whispered breath was warm against her face, her closed eyes not seeing him leave as the door clicked in his wake.

**…**


	13. White Hot

Packing the two four-foot-tall shipping containers was tricky, especially when the two people packing them weren't speaking to one another. Not that their silence was out of anger, quite the opposite. Neither truly knew what to say after the evening before. It had been an uncomfortable continental breakfast, an uncomfortable drive to the shipping warehouse, and since they rented a pickup to haul the crates back and forth, the only comfortable moments they had were by themselves in separate vehicles.

Sydney spent the drive talking aloud and cursing at herself for ruining her friendship with the one person that had grounded her during this whole ordeal to whom she wasn’t related. Her guilt was also horribly compounded by the fact that her mom has been right. She'd seen something in the two of them before even they had, and that was driving her crazy.

Michael had similar rantings in the truck, the Prius leading the way as he called himself every name in the book for  _ 'taking advantage of Sydney in her broken emotional state' _ , and other such sentences, most with far more curse words than he thought he'd remembered. Worse even, he was trying to figure out how he was going to face Laura when they got back. Sure he was a lawyer, but Laura Bristow could shrink anyone down into a little ball with merely a gaze, and she always knew when someone was lying.

Now that the trash was out, Michael taking the first part of the day to get the bags in the dumpster, they set to packing up the essentials and anything Sydney wanted for the boys or for herself. Her phone rang around lunchtime, Sydney in the back of the closet in the master bedroom pulling out the box of her maternity clothes.

With a breathy voice, she fumbled a greeting into the phone pinched between shoulder and ear, Jake's voice making her smile and relax for the first time all day. "Mommy!"

"Hello, my sweet boy. I've missed you so much! Are you being a good boy?"

"Yep! Is Michael there?"

Sydney frowned with an incredulous look on her face. "Ummm…yeah. Why?"

"I need him to favor me."

She traveled out of the bedroom and into the hallway, Vaughn in the children's room packing a trash bag full of their clothes and stuffed animals. She paused for a moment at the door and watched as he bent over to pick up a dropped bear. Chastising herself for looking at his toned backside, she didn't stop looking but did clear her throat.

"Hey…ummm…phone for you."

He turned with a sweaty brow and flashed a smile before taking the cell from her hands. She waited not only because she was hoping that Jake would want to talk to  _ her _ after talking with Michael, but she was truly curious about the boy's favor.

Vaughn spoke into the phone as he wiped at the sweat on his brow, his sleeves rolled up to the crooks of his arms but not really helping against the heat that was building up in the upper floors with no air conditioning running. "Hello?"

"Michael, it's Jacob. Can I have you favor for me?" Michael's smile was infectious at the boy's voice and Sydney found herself grinning at his reaction to her son calling to speak with him.

"Sure, buddy. What do you need?"

"I had a birfday present for my mommy in my room – it's hiding. I made it for her at my school, and I wanted to gift it, but we left it there. Can you bring it like a secret?" His heart swelled and he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes.

_ 'How the hell could anyone have hurt this little boy?' _

Vaughn turned to see Sydney still standing curiously in the doorway, and he pulled the phone away for a moment. "Guy stuff. Could you…give me a minute with him?"

"Don't let him hang up, okay?" He saw the desperation in her eyes to speak with her son and promised as she left the doorway, having to convince herself to go all the way back to the master bedroom and continue sorting through her clothes when all she wanted to do was eavesdrop on the secret conversation.

"Alright pal, where did you hide it?"

"It's in my toy box, inside the fire truck." Michael lifted the lid on the box and saw infinitely more toys he'd probably have to pack up. Digging around a bit he found the fire truck hidden near the bottom of the pile. Grabbing it, he looked inside the cab and found a crumpled piece of folded paper.

"Is it a letter?"

"It's a picture."

"I've got it. I'll put it in my pocket, okay? It'll be a secret and you can surprise her with it when we get back tonight, okay?"

"What if I'm sleeping?" Michael heard the worry in the little boy's voice and nodded, pretty sure their flight would be in for a late dinner, and by the time they got to the house, it would be well past his bedtime.

"I'll tell you what. I'll come up and tuck it under your pillow. That way you'll have it in the morning. Deal?"

"Thanks, Michael. You're my best friend."

Once more the boy managed to kick him right in the heart and he smiled. "Okay. I'm gonna give the phone back to your mom, okay? She really wants to talk to you. I'll see you soon, okay?"

They said their goodbyes and he walked the phone to the room spying Sydney struggling with a large box of clothes. "Trade," he ordered, the phone going into her outstretched hand as he pulled the box up with ease and carried it from the room and down the steps.

"Hi, sweetie. How have you been?" Her voice was soft and Jake proceeded to tell her all about the few days they'd spent without her at home. Noah wasn't taking it well, the little boy grouchy and crying for most of her trip, and apparently the only person he wanted to hold him was grandma, but other than that everyone was happy and they ate pancakes every morning for breakfast. His observations swung the gamut, but his detail was impeccable and she thanked him from her spot on the bed with one leg folded under her as the other dangled off the end.

"Okay honey. You be good for grandma and papa, and I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Even if I'm sleeping?"

"Even if you're sleeping I'll come in and give you a kiss and tuck you in. Promise," she wiped at a tear that had escaped, avoiding the desperate want to ask him what his conversation with Michael had entailed.

Packing the remaining items into the crates was trying, Michael sweating hard and putting all of his weight on the plastic flaps at the top trying to get them to close. Thankfully, they finally snapped into place, though it happened despite the fact that his thumb was in the way. He cursed loudly and jumped back, his foot missing the couch he'd used as leverage and he fell with a thud onto the floor as the wind left his lungs in a rush.

He lay on the floor in a cloud of fog for a moment, his hand cradled against his chest as one leg sprawled up against the crate and the other rested on the cushion of the couch. He closed his eyes as he tried to compartmentalize the suddenness of the impact, his eyes only reopening when he felt a soft hand against his cheek. Sydney knelt above him with concern in her deep brown eyes.

He could see her lips moving though couldn't quite make out what she was saying for a moment, sound finally breaking through as he regained a normal breathing pattern from the short pants he had been taking. She was calling his name. It was like an angel was speaking – she even had a little halo of light around her sweaty face, one bead rolling down her neck slowly and he couldn't stop his eyes from focusing on it for a moment. It followed the line of her throat until it dipped down and met her collar bone, disappearing into the soft cotton of the v-neck shirt she was wearing.

"Michael!" She raised her voice as both hands cradled his face and turned his eyes until they met hers. "Are you okay?"

"I just – slipped."

She let out a relieved breath of air and reached a hand back to his neck. "Is your neck okay?"

"Yeah…yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare the shit out of you." He sat up with a wince, her arm reaching around behind his shoulders and pulling to help. "Goddamned box," he groused as he looked at the raised pinch filled with blood on his right thumb.

She pulled his hand close with a wince, "sit tight, I’ll grab the first aid kit." Standing quickly, he had a chance to get his bearings as she ran into the kitchen, appearing a moment later with the object in hand. Flipping it open she grabbed out the ice pack, breaking the seal inside and feeling it cool instantly against her palm. She knelt next to him once more and picked his hand up between her palms pressing the ice pack against the pinched skin. Her eyes were focused on her task but Michael's were free to wander her features once more. He'd been avoiding it all day, but in this moment he couldn't get his mind to listen to reason.

He saw the circles under her eyes that she’d tried to hide with makeup, the sweaty sheen to her skin from the heat indoors, and the permanent frown marring her mouth. While the worry was everpresent, the want to make things right and the lovely angle of her jaw as it clenched while she looked at his thumb endeared her to him even more.

_ 'She has a way of sucking you in,' _ he heard Laura's warning in his mind, and boy was she right. Almost anything Sydney did Michael found fascinating.

A loose strand of hair was hanging down and without thinking he reached out and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers brushing her neck for a moment until the hand fell back down to his lap and his eyes closed against the bright light.

"You’re beautiful." He paused, looking away for a moment at the surprise that flashed across her features, seeing her relax a bit as the tension left her face. "Thank you for picking me up off the floor. I may have hit my head so...we’ll just...assume that anything said in these few minutes could...be because of that," he strained as he refound her eyes that focused on him. She offered an apologetic nod and a soft smile before she placed the ice pack into his hand and stood, taking the stairs to grab the last bag of things to go into the other container.

**…**

They walked silently through the airport after a silent flight and a silent ride from the shipping company to the terminal, dropping off the rental car before making their way silently to the gate.

They made their way to the curb as Bill Vaughn smiled and waved. "Your dad couldn't make it; he's stuck in NYC after the conference. Good to have you two back." Hugging both adults and shepherding them into the car, Michael spoke to her for the first time in hours by offering her the front seat.

She didn't have the energy to refuse and let him open and then close the door before he walked around to the driver’s side and slid in behind his father.

"I'm sorry that things happened the way they did, Sydney."

"Thanks, Bill. To be honest, I think it'll make moving on a lot easier."

The rest of the drive was silent, but Michael was determined to memorize every single one of her features before they dropped her off. His father was finalizing all of the paperwork, and after getting Rick's death certificate from the hospital in a day or so, their work with Sydney on her divorce and the other paperwork involved would be completed fairly soon. He didn't know when he'd see her again, if at all.

She was asleep midway through the drive, Bill catching the stare of longing from the hooded, matching green eyes behind him. "Toeing the line of off-limits, aren’t we son?" 

Michael’s eyes snapped to the mirror realizing that he’d been caught. "Accidentally, that’s all. It got fixed. Thanks for the ride, dad."

The house was quiet but the lights in the front were on. Laura opened the door and waved at them from the top step before moving out to help. She grabbed the suitcase and was surprised when Michael walked them to the house. Sydney was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted and half asleep as she walked the stairs to the bedrooms automatically after giving her mother a greeting kiss on the cheek. Stopping in to press one to the foreheads of both boys, she crossed to her room and fell into the bed.

"I promised I'd leave something for Jake, could I go up?" Laura had noticed a forced coldness between the two young adults but chalked it up to frayed emotions and the fact that they'd packed a whole house in two days.

"Of course," she gestured, handing him the two suitcases and letting him lug them up the steps. He dutifully left them at the top turning left into the boy's room rather than chancing a glance right into Sydney's. Jake was curled up in bed purposefully leaving half of his pillow exposed for Michael to access if he was true to his word.

He pulled the crumpled paper out of his pocket and slid it under his pillow before brushing the boy's hair away from his forehead and retreating back to the hallway.

"Michael, thank you for everything. You went above and beyond for my family, and I don't know how we'll repay you." Walking him to the door he flashed a bright but tired smile.

"My pleasure. Take care, Laura."

She followed the lights of the car until it was down the driveway and out of view, only then moving back into the house to close and lock the door. Silence greeted her and she realized that Sydney must have stayed upstairs. She found her daughter asleep on the bed still fully dressed missing only her shoes and jacket. Pulling a spare blanket from the closet in the corner she draped it over her body before turning off the light and closing the door to the room for the night.

**…**

A line of light finally reached the point in the sky that seemed to break past the window coverings across the room, beaming through and traveling across the pillow and then her cheek, and now finally her right eye making her groan into wakefulness.

Flipping to her back, Sydney realized that she apparently had slept in her clothes, the jeans and t-shirt twisted around her body and wrinkled. Lifting her head just high enough to read 10:17 on the alarm clock, her head flopped back down and she stretched contentedly with a yawn. Her lower back was killing her and she had a persistent cramp in her right side. She wasn’t surprised. Tensing her arms and legs, she realized that almost every muscle ached in one way or another after packing a house in two days all without doing a single stretch ahead of time.

Grabbing a towel from the hall closet she padded to the bathroom across the hall intent on washing away every single bit of Los Angeles from her body with a long soak in the tub. Her smaller attached bathroom had a small tub, but the big tub was in the main floor bath and she couldn’t wait to climb in. She chanced a look at her appearance and saw a rumpled figure before her, but gone were the bags under her eyes, and for the second day in a row in a couple of weeks, her stomach wasn't doing flips and her face wasn't pale.

_ 'Odd. Is morning sickness is granting me a vacation or something? Whatever it is, I'll take it.' _

Turning on the water, the amazing clawfoot tub regally sitting in the windowed nook of the elegant bathroom, she heard the scampering of feet and looked to the closed door as someone fumbled with the knob.

"Momma," Noah cried, giving up on the round brass and settling with pounding his little hand on the wood.

She rolled her eyes with a smile realizing that since she'd slept in she would have to take a shower instead, and killed the water to the tub. Moving across to the enclosed shower she flipped it on and let the steam build up for a moment before she opened the door for her toddler. He ran face-first into her legs as he continued to cry, Laura in the hallway with an exasperated look on her face.

"Hi mommy," Jake waved, his hand firmly in his grandmother's palm.

"Hi, little roo," she smiled sweetly and made her way out into the hallway, hefting Noah against her hip as she leaned forward to pull Jake against her chest and plant a wet kiss to his cheek. Her back and side protested, the wince not going unnoticed by her mother. "Mommy's going to take a quick shower and then I'll pay with you both all day, okay?"

"You okay, honey?"

_ 'Mom never misses a thing, does she? Eyes like a hawk.' _

"Yeah, I pulled some muscles and tweaked my back a bit moving yesterday. It'll go away."

Noah wasn't having any of it, and Sydney let her eldest head off with his grandma while resigning Noah into the bathroom with her. Filling the tub with a little bit of warm water and bubble bath soap, she tossed in his toys and stripped him quickly. The moment he realized it was a playful bath time he forgot how upset he was that his mother was ignoring him and she watched him through the glass of the shower walls as she washed her hair and body before exiting.

He threw a fit when she rinsed him off and began to drain the tub, but she wrapped him in a fuzzy towel blowing raspberries into his stomach in an effort to distract the grumpy child. It worked and she set him on the edge of the sink against her stomach to brush their hair. He wrapped her hair tie around his hands until she slipped it on her wrist and, making sure the towel was tied around her body, picked him up in her arms and flew him with airplane noises into the boy's bedroom. Grabbing his essentials, she bounced him to her room to get them both dressed for the day.

"No put on!" The moment he was free he bolted, Laura scooping him up as he hit the door, a naked, wet, wriggling mass of toddler. He tried to fight but couldn't and gave in to the diaper and the clothes Sydney wrestled over his frame while his grandmother held him in place.

Jake ran in and dove onto the bed with a giggle and a bounce, a tattered piece of paper crumpled in his hand. "Mommy, I maded this for your birfday."

"That was weeks ago, sweetie." She grinned and moved around the room to pick out a comfortable outfit of pajama pants and a fluffy sweater, pulling the pants up under her towel and the sweater over the top before tossing it into the growing pile of laundry she was set to do that day.

"Well, I maded it at school but it was at the house. Michael secreted it here and left it under my pillow just like he promised."

Now she knew the subject of their secret conversation while they were packing in L.A., and the pang in her chest hit twice. First, she missed Michael Vaughn's presence more than she thought she would, and second was love growing even stronger for her little boy.

"Let me see," she reached for it after slipping the sweater over her body sliding in next to him on the bed.

It was a picture of stick figures, but the smaller one was sideways in the sky with a billowing red cape flying behind its neck and clouds around its head – clearly flying. In the small figure's arms, rather standing on the arms was a larger figure with long brown hair. The bottom of the picture was a crudely drawn house but she could clearly decipher it as their small townhouse below the figures as they flew over.

"It's wonderful; could you tell me about it?"

"That's me, and that's you, and that's our old house."

"Okay, but what are we doing? Are we flying?"

"Mmhmm. I'm your hero, and we're flying away. I'm taking you to grammy and papa's house forever."

Tears welled up and she looked at the picture with a completely different pair of eyes. "Oh, Jakey, I love it. You are my hero," she sniffled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Noah and I are gonna go play trucks. Loveyoubye!" With that he was gone, grabbing his brother's hand and leading him from the room past Laura as she leaned against the doorframe.

"He's a good little boy, Sydney. You raised him well."

"I called him my hero after I woke up in the hospital. He…he'd been the one to call 911." Instead of feeling the pang of guilt and shame that typically accompanied that memory, she felt a sense of ease wash over her. "He'll always be my little hero."

Gingerly setting the rumpled drawing on her nightstand she stood and saw tears on her mother's cheek. "It's all done, mom. We don't have to cry anymore." The same twinge hit her from before, her lower back making her stretch and grumble.

Sydney pulled Laura into a strong hug before letting her go and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm starving though, is there any breakfast down there?"

Laura nodded and wiped at her cheeks as the two made their way downstairs. "You actually want breakfast?"

"It's weird. Both yesterday and today I haven't had any morning sickness and I've just been hungry all damn day. Maybe this kid will be a little more gentle on me," she laughed and skipped her tea prep.

"I was going to take the boys to the playground today, do you want to come with us?"

"Honestly? I'd love to not leave this house. I need to unpack my suitcase and the extra one I brought with me, do a bunch of laundry…you know. Mom stuff. But you guys should go and have fun!"

Jake ran in, "when are we going to the playground, grammy?"

"Whenever you two want. Your mommy is going to stay here and unpack, but we don't have to stay for that boring stuff, do we?"

Sydney ate a re-heated breakfast as Laura got the kids ready for the park, Jake slightly upset that she wasn't coming, but when Sydney said he could stay with her only if he helped clean and do chores, he decided it was best to go play with his brother in the park.

"Your father should be home in about an hour, just so he doesn't surprise you. We'll see you in a bit!"

And with that the house was hers. She sat in the kitchen and closed her eyes, smiling at the silence that greeted her. She stood to grab a second helping of bacon and sausage, a cramp in her lower right side making her stop and press her hand against her back and push back against her kneading fingers.

_ 'I may actually have to do stretches today, this is just killing me.' _

Placing the food in the microwave she moved back toward the table as a sharp, white-hot burst of pain slashed across her abdomen causing her to crumple at the waist. Her groan was caught in her throat as another pierce blurred her vision, and she reached for the back of the closest kitchen chair as her knees began to buckle. A third burst of pain made her eyes roll back as she collapsed, the side of her head knocking against the seat of the chair as she fell unconscious to the floor.

**…**


	14. 'H' Is for Honesty

A knock echoed through the open living space and pulled Michael's head up from his paperwork with a frown. He rose and sighed moving to the door to look through the peephole. Pausing for a moment, he thought that if he didn’t answer the man would go away assuming he wasn’t home. He was wrong.

"I know you're home, Vaughn. You're looking at me right now wondering if you could just ignore me and I'll go away. I have a key. I could come in on my own, or you could let me in, but either way, I'm coming in to drink all or some of this beer. You pick."

Michael grinned and pulled the door open as his best friend hustled in.

"'Working from home' for the third time this week? Here I am with dinner, courtesy of my wife, and beer, courtesy of me."

"Eric, you don't have to keep coming over and trying to rescue me each time I get into a funk."

"Yes I do. You would literally die if we didn't save you every time you got into a funk. Not to mention, this funk is the longest funk you've ever funked." Eric flopped down onto the couch setting the twelve-pack of beer onto the coffee table, a bag in his hand filled with spicy-smelling food.

Vaughn joined him, tossing his feet up and popping open a beer before reaching for the food. "What would I do without you," he mumbled sarcastically as he opened the lid and saw the tamales, his stomach reacting with a growl as he realized that he'd skipped eating after breakfast.

"So…what is it about this particular girl this particular time?"

Michael got a wistful look on his face as memories went flying through and he smiled. "She's just amazing. Strong, caring, beautiful…the whole package wrapped neatly into one person."

Belching as he took a long drink of the ale, "so if she's the whole package, why are you not at the very least hittin' that?" He chuckled at Vaughn's disgruntled look.

"It's not like that. It's – Sydney is – she just – she's perfect."

"Bullshit."

"No really. Perfect."

Eric rolled his eyes and downed the rest of the beer. "No one person is perfect. You're just thinking of the experience behind rose-colored glasses."

"Maybe," Michael conceded verbally, not mentally. "Whatever; nothing is going to come of it anyway. It's been two and a half months and she's had a lot of shit happen in her life so she's looking to move into the future which, believe me, doesn't include a man any time soon. It's timing, man. Sometimes the timing is off."

"So you're not even gonna try? Just…call her up one day and just say, 'hey I'm into you, let's get coffee'?"

"Nope. She was a client so I behaved myself-"

"By making out with her in a hotel," Eric interjected with a grin.

"-and now that she's not a client any longer the timing has passed and she's moving on." Michael shrugged, though an air of sadness never really left his eyes.

Eric gave him a little bit of space for a moment, choosing instead to get up and walk into the kitchen to grab silverware to eat the dinner his wife had prepared. They sat in silence while Michael chewed, Eric waiting for him to be done before pressing.

"Tell me one honest thing while I'm here tonight and I won't ask you about her again."

A few long minutes of silence passed until Vaughn acquiesced.

"I miss her. I know I only knew her for a few weeks, and the only meaningful time we spent together was when her abusive husband died and we packed her entire house in two days, I know that. But…I miss her voice, her laugh, her dimples…I miss her kids.”

He paused at that honesty, Eric surprised as well. “I wish I'd been there when she had her miscarriage because when my dad told me, it took everything I had to stay home and not rush upstate to just give her a hug. I can't get rid of the feeling that I need to protect her and her kids from anything and everything." Vaughn blurted out, the sincerity in his best friend’s eyes making him look away as tears welled up and blurred his vision.

Eric set a hand to Michael's shoulder and squeezed. "So what are you gonna do about Saturday?"

"I don't know, man. You can't possibly know how bad I wanna go, but I just…I just feel like it would be a kick in the heart going there and then leaving with nothing at the end of the night."

"Can you take a plus one? Because I'll go with you if you want; I'll be your moral support or your wingman. Plus – I love fireworks and I've heard that up there you can see fireworks from like three different towns."

Michael laughed and finished his second beer, Eric popping the top on another and passing it over as he opened his own replacement and took a swig. "That's not a bad idea."

"Seriously, man. I'll go with you."

Vaughn nodded, thrown off when Eric leaned forward and pointed his finger in his direction. "I'll go, but you have to talk to Sydney's dad about your shit."

Choking on the mouthful of beer he'd been swallowing, he fixed incredulous eyes on his friend. "Seriously? You think I should tell Jack Bristow that I need his advice because I'm in love with his daughter?"

"You just used the 'L' word, so you tell me. I'll go if you talk to him about it. What if he tells you that she's been pining over you the same way? What if she's just as miserable without you as you are without her?"

_ 'Not likely.' _ Michael threw out a resigned sigh. "Fine. You go with me to be my buffer if I need it, and I'll talk to Jack."

**…**

Sydney and Laura were laughing and chatting as they walked through the front door, arms laden with bags of food for the Fourth of July celebration her parents hosted every year. It would be the first time since Noah was born that Sydney and Jake were there for the event and it made them both very excited. He didn't remember much save for the 'loud lights in the sky over the hill', which was essentially the finale of the evening, so he was remembering the best parts.

Jack greeted them along with Jake, Noah on his hip, and the four-year-old offered to help carry bags. They loaded him up with the buns, his comment that he felt like a superhero making the adults chuckle.

Laura went upstairs to put the boys down for a nap as Sydney set out getting the foodstuffs sorted. A few minutes went by until she noticed that her father was leaning against the counter opposite where she was standing, his jaw chewing as he munched on some baby carrots.

"What?"

"Bill and his wife RSVP'd for the barbecue tonight." He saw a slight frown mar her forehead a split second before it disappeared and she flashed a bright, dimpled smile.

"That's great! It's been weeks since we've seen Bill, it'll be nice to say hi." She brushed past him to get to the fridge, pulling the now opened bag of baby carrots from his hands and closing it up before tossing into a drawer with the celery, broccoli, and snap peas they'd purchased for the snack tray.

Jack studied her face with a half-smile, his eyes never leaving her features until she sighed exasperatedly and turned to face him, one hand on her hip as the other held the chopping knife for the peppers they'd be grilling along with the burgers.

"What?"

"You had this little flash of a frown on your face."

"What? When?"

"Just then."

"Because you're driving me crazy?"

"No, it wasn't that."

"Dad-" she warned, turning away from him and resuming her chopping. She knew what he was digging at, and she was experiencing yet another chance to regret her moment of weakness for turning to him and admitting she'd had feelings for the younger of the Vaughn's a few days after the miscarriage. Pain medication apparently made her confess her deepest secrets, and while her father had been so supportive at the time, he'd been hounding her about her expressed feelings several times a week for the last two months.

"It was a curious observation, that's all." He reached over and grabbed a piece of the pepper and popped it into his mouth.

She stopped with a heavy sigh and squeezed her eyes closed as she had an internal war of words in her mind.

_ 'Just ask if Michael is coming.' _

_ 'No.' _

_ 'But you really want to know.' _

_ 'So?' _

_ 'He'll tell you if you ask.' _

_ 'Of course he will.' _

"Is Michael coming?" Her voice was quiet and she didn't look up to meet her father's gaze, merely staring at the half chopped green pepper under her hand.

"Yep." Jack saw her shoulders relax as she turned to flash an annoyed look in his direction. 

"You love this, don't you?"

"I love trying to keep you honest," he admitted.

She sighed. "What am I not being honest about, dad? It's been two and a half months and…literally nothing came of any of it. It was a – a moment of emotional insecurity."

"Don't you quote me back to me, young lady," he chastised with a laughing voice.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling before she pointed the knife in his direction, "don't test me."

"Sweetheart, you are the only person that can do anything about how you feel. If you genuinely don't feel anything any longer because it was, as you say 'a moment of emotional insecurity', then why worry about tonight?"

"Please, you know it's not up to me. It's up to mom," she laughed.

"What's up to me?" Laura commented as she walked into the kitchen, Jack and Sydney both ending the conversation and going about their business of chopping vegetables and consuming said chopped vegetables. "Oh no, you don't. You guys don't get to play the silent game," she scolded, a hand on her hip in much the same position Sydney had held mere moments earlier.

"It's nothing, mom. Dad is trying to shrink me, can you tell him to stop?"

"Jack, don't shrink your daughter."

"Sorry," he tossed his hands up and left the kitchen with a knowing smile on his face as Laura helped Sydney with the food preparations.

**…**

_ 'You've been standing in this room for ten minutes. You're fretting over an outfit for a barbecue, not a fundraising gala. Why is this taking so long?' _

Sydney's brain was overloaded as she stood in front of the mirror staring at her reflection in a matching black lace bra and panty set.

_ 'Why are you wearing your sexy underwear? What do you think is going to happen at your mom and dad's barbecue?' _

She grumbled and tossed up her hands, leaving on the lacy set before grabbing her shorts and a v-neck t-shirt. The jean shorts came to mid-thigh and were comfortable, which was all Sydney was honestly looking for in her outfit for the night.

Guests filed in, a dozen people at least filling the back patio and deck with Jack standing at the grill among several other older gentlemen from the town as they discussed the proper ways to cook the various meats and veggies over the flames.

Sydney stood with Laura and the other wives and mothers, a few bringing their children or grandchildren as they ran around the yard with a soccer ball shrieking and giggling. Many families were in attendance, but as Bill and his wife Emily walked through the house making an entrance in the backyard, butterflies danced in Sydney's stomach so ferociously that she was more than happy to run and grab something from the kitchen for her father when he hollered.

Giving Bill a hug and placing a kiss on Emily's cheek, Sydney dashed inside, loose strands of her hair falling around her cheeks and neck from the quick bun she'd made at the top of her head in an effort to get her hair away from her face as she and her mother prepped food.

Closing the sliding glass door behind her she turned quickly to make her way into the kitchen and ran headlong into a tall man's chest, the beer in the mug sloshing up and over the two of them as he reached a hand out to steady the shocked woman in front of him. Her white v-neck t-shirt was soaked at the front, her black bra showing through as drips of the amber liquid fell from her chin, the man's blue button-up shirt a shade darker down his chest and stomach.

"Oh shit…I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention at all," the man immediately apologized as Sydney laughed and shook her arms, more of the beer flying off of her fingertips. "You – you must be Sydney?"

"Yeah, sorry for the rude welcome," she waved him into the kitchen and tossed him a hand towel as she pulled her another out from a drawer next to the fridge. After wiping her arm and hands she held out her palm in greeting.

"Eric Weiss. I'm here with Bill and Michael."

Butterflies again. "Thanks for coming!"

"What the hell happened here?" Michael's voice made them both turn around as the towels were dabbed against faces with a chuckle here and there.

"Oh you know – when I make an entrance it's like the Kool-Aid man busting through a wall." Eric gestured to him and Sydney then pointing to the nearly empty mug of beer on the table.

Michael's eyes, however, were drawn to Sydney, her dimples out in full force as she wiped at her forehead and neck. The t-shirt wasn't hiding much from his imagination, and he tried to push away the blush that was creeping up from his neck to his cheeks.

"I'm gonna go grab another shirt. I'll see what my dad has, Eric, maybe something will fit."

As she passed Vaughn his mouth was dry and words were stuck in his throat. She handed him the towel and responded to his confused look with a grin and a nod to the beer spilled on the floor. "Before my mother sees, that should get mopped up. It's good to see you," she squeezed his arm before heading up the stairs to change.

He stood for a moment looking up the steps, a silly grin on his face until he was hit in the side of the head with Eric's beer-stained hand towel, turning and glowering at the man now leaning against the back of a kitchen chair and watching his friend with a wide smile.

"That's Sydney?" His voice was a whisper as Vaughn rolled his eyes and knelt to wipe up the splattered mess on the floor.

"Yes – that's Sydney.”

"Man…if I wasn't married," he whistled.

“I’m telling Nadia,” Vaughn chuckled, a panicked look crossing his friend’s face, the eye roll following.

“You’re such a tattle-tale. I know the rules, man. You can listen to the radio, just don’t touch the knobs.”

Michael balked as he went to grab another towel, finding the drawer empty. Knowing that the stash was in the hallway linen closet upstairs from his few weeks of doing dishes several months ago, he turned to make for the steps in order to grab a few to replace the wet ones he bundled into the sink.

“How did she end up with you?” Weiss flipped him off while refilling the mug and heading out to the backyard.

Upstairs, Sydney had pulled off the wet shirt before flopping back onto the bed. "Really? 'Good to see you'? That was all you could say?" Her voice was a whisper and she tossed an arm across her face with a groan.

Lying there for a moment she sighed before getting up and grabbing a new shirt, dark blue this time just in case another spill occurred. Balling it up into her hand she tossed open her door and intended to make her way toward the bathroom across the hall where she’d left her makeup in case she needed to do touch-ups.

She hurried into the hallway as Michael hit the top step, their eyes meeting for a flash until his diverted to the floor and hers rolled up to stare at the ceiling as her hands flopped down to her sides. "I'm standing here mostly naked, aren't I?"

"Yeah."

"That’s perfect. 'Scuse me," she mumbled as she finished her walk of shame to the bathroom to his right, the door closing behind her. He swore he heard a thump against the wood but pushed past it as he shook his head, making his way to the linen closet.

Sydney stood with her forehead against the cool wood as her face burned in embarrassment. "Tonight is just gonna be one of those nights I guess," she grumbled as she ran a wet cloth over her face and chest, touched up the makeup, pulled the shirt over her head, and straightened her hair back into the loose bun before heading back downstairs.

Thankfully the boys had left the kitchen, the beer cleaned up, and she walked with determined strides to fill up a glass of wine and rejoin the party. She made it back out, her father holding up his hands at the grill and reminding her that her whole goal was to go inside and get the hot dogs, not crash into Eric Weiss before flashing Michael in the hallway.

The food was delicious, and Laura's homemade barbecue sauce was the talk of the night, but she wasn't giving away any secrets. For an hour Michael had been ignoring Eric's subtle and not so subtle hints to get Jack alone for a moment so they could talk, and at that precise moment, the man was walking into the house.

"You promised," Eric growled, Michael relenting and setting down his drink to follow after the older man.

He caught him as he was ascending the stairs, Jack surprised to see Michael calling after him. "Jack – could…could I chat with you for a moment?"

"Of course, son. Come on up, I was going to grab that new paperwork on my desk for your father."

His office was comfortable, the leather furniture warm and soft as he sat in the chair across from Jack's desk. "Oh…it's one of  _ those _ kinds of chats," Jack lightened the mood seeing the worry lines on the young man's forehead.

Michael laughed for a moment though his stomach still felt filled with lead and he couldn't keep his hands from fidgeting in his lap. Jack pulled his office chair around and sat in front of the nervous young man, his hands clasped and propped on his knees as he left his posture open and inviting.

"I don't really know how to start talking here," Vaughn admitted, unable to meet Jack's gaze.

"Just be honest. What's on your mind? Take your time, I charge by the hour."

A moment of silence passed as Michael gathered his thoughts and finally looked forward. "I have...feelings for someone that I think I shouldn’t have feelings for, and I need advice."

"Ah. Why shouldn't you have feelings for this person?"

"I don't know, Jack – I just feel like I screwed stuff up and then didn't do anything to fix it. I...feel like I don’t deserve my feelings."

"Pretending that I have no clue who or what you're referring to, why can't you fix what you've screwed up?"

Silence. "Because I waited too long."

"Waiting doesn't mean you've missed your chance. That can't be why you feel the opportunity for a relationship has slipped through your fingers."

"I mean…I just...didn't call her. I…finished up the job and left."

Jack nodded and sat back as he folded one arm up and set his temple against his fist to rest his head. "You're not being honest right now."

Michael finally met his eye expecting to see conflict but instead just saw the warm and friendly blue stare as they tried to get Michael to admit what he didn't at all want to admit. He sighed and for the first time since walking in his hands stopped fiddling, though the wrinkles on his forehead stayed in place.

"I'm in love with your daughter, Jack."

The older man smiled and nodded. "Who isn't? She has a way of making you care. Tell me about my daughter."

Confusion flashed across Michael's face. "What?"

"Tell me about her as if I've never met her. You say you love her – which I'm not doubting – but what about her is worth loving?"

"I don't – I don't see what you're getting at, Jack."

He smiled, "that's why I'm the shrink and you're in  _ that  _ chair."

Michael looked away, suddenly fascinated by a loose string on his jeans. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Jack sighed, "I'm not pressuring you to say anything you don't want to say, but if you want to have a serious conversation about having a relationship with my daughter, you're going to have to do better than this, Michael. So – tell me about Sydney."

Memories washed across the young man's mind and he instantly recalled the first minute he laid eyes on the frazzled woman hurrying through the airport late at night with two young children and a purpling bruise under her left eye. Her strength and determination that night on the flight impressed him greatly, and after she'd fallen asleep he'd taken more and enough time to memorize the elegant features of her face.

"That. Right there." Michael's eyes snapped back into focus and he jumped at the sudden strong, yet quiet, outburst from Sydney's father. "That stupid grin on your face tells me everything that I needed to know."

"But I didn't-"

Jack laughed, cutting him off. "Michael…the only thing that's keeping you from having a conversation with my daughter is  _ you _ . I'll concede that it's a two-way street and that she could have easily sought contact with you over the last two and a half months. That means one of two things: she doesn't share your feelings and that's why she didn't initiate the conversation, or she's in the same boat as you, filled with regret and hesitation."

"You know the answer to that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

Michael nodded as he flashed a grin, "can I get a hint?"

"It's not my information to give. But if you're granted the opportunity, talk with Sydney tonight. If anything…do it for your own peace of mind, but be honest with yourself as well as her. It'll fall apart if you check your honesty at the door."

Michael felt better, the worry lines on his forehead disappearing as he stood and helped Jack up. "Thanks, Mr. Bristow."

Scolding him for using a proper name they laughed and exited the study, Michael taking the manila folder of paperwork and sliding it into his father's coat hanging in the hallway. Jack sent Michael off to rejoin the party as he made his way into the living room to pile up blankets on the edge of the couch.

Soon enough, everyone gathered their things and made their way up the big hill at the end of the Bristow's property. From there, the overlook of the town was the best spot around to see the fireworks that they set off at the high school. Noah was cranky, ten o'clock several hours past his bedtime, but he didn't want to go to bed if everyone else was staying up, so he contented to sit on Sydney's hip with his blonde head resting on her shoulder, two chubby fingers twirling a lock of her hair as he looked at whomever she was chatting with, his big blue eyes studious.

Jake tugged at Michael's hand getting his attention, "Michael, can you carry me on your shoulders?"

The man agreed instantly, handing his soda off to Eric as he hefted the boy up onto his shoulders and the group made their way across the fields and up the large slope. Everyone got settled, Jack looking around for a moment, Sydney peering up from her spot on the grass with Noah on her lap.

"You forget something, dad?"

"We left the blankets in the living room," he grumbled, flopping with a grunt and a wince next to Laura on the installed bench. "Could you run and get them Sydney? My knees aren't what they used to be," he asked.

"Of course," she hopped up, Noah being transferred to his grandmother's lap.

"Oh, and the flashlights. They're in the kitchen."

Sydney stopped and waited for a moment, "anything else?"

"I'd love a beer," he flashed a warm smile.

"Do you need help carrying anything?" Eric offered, sticking his elbow into Michael's ribs as his friend tossed him a surprised look. "Michael loves to carry things."

Vaughn laughed and rose, knowing it was better now than never. "I'd be happy to help. I've been slacking these last couple of months anyway."

The trek down the hill was silent, both parties gathering their thoughts. Halfway to the house, they both broke the quiet at the same time, "Michael," – "Sydney-", a laugh loosening the tension.

"I – we should talk."

**…**


	15. Two Steps Forward

“I – we should talk,” Michael said as he looked down at his feet walking through the grass. He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, but neither spoke again until they reached the porch, Michael sliding the door open for her with a small, nervous smile.

Back up on the hill Jake pulled out his little binoculars and looked down toward the house, Laura settling Noah on her lap. “Should I push the button now, papa?”

“Not yet, I’ll let you know when.” Jack met his wife’s frowning eyes with a wink and a grin.

“What are you two up to?” 

“We’re going to-” Jake’s voice was cut off by Jack’s hand as he shushed the boy and talked over his little voice.

“We’re going to watch some fireworks, isn’t that right, son?” Taking the scopes from his grandson he peered down at the house and saw his daughter and the young lawyer standing in the living room awkwardly, each with hands in their pockets.  _ ‘C’mon you two…get honest.’ _

**…**

Sydney chewed at the edge of her lip as her eyes found an interesting speck on the floor just behind where he was standing. Michael on the other hand had his eyes fixed on the smooth features of her cheeks and the line of her jaw, the dimple line on the left side poking out as she worried at her lip.

“I’m sorry,” she stared, finally looking up to see him frown and tilt his head to the side.

“What for?”

She sighed and shrugged, “for just…shutting everyone out over the last couple of months. I really should have at least called to thank you for everything you did.”

Michael laughed and shook his head. “Here _ I _ was going to apologize to  _ you _ for not calling and seeing how you were doing. I’m sorry for disappearing when everything was said and done. My silence got longer and awkward the more I talked myself out of calling.”

“Why?”

His eyes snapped up to hers. “Why what?”

“Why’d you talk yourself out of calling?”

It was his turn to struggle to find the words, his gaze focusing behind her on the bowl of fruit sitting in the center of the kitchen table. “I guess…I figured you wouldn’t exactly be looking for anything with me - with a guy any time soon.”

She smiled wide and looked down at her feet for a moment. “Michael – my life was crazy; my life  _ is _ crazy. Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to share this mess with me.” She paused a moment looking back up with guilty eyes. “I guess you weren’t the only one talking yourself out of things.”

Flashing a half-smirk he chuckled. “Your life doesn’t scare me, Syd. Your dad all but held me down earlier and tattooed the words ‘be honest’ into my forehead, so I’ll just say what I should have said months ago,” pausing for a moment he held his hand out palm up the same as he’d done that night in the hotel. Though circumstances were opposite to that night, he still wanted to leave the ball in her court.

Her reaction was a dimpled smile as she reached her hand out to set her fingers in his palm.

“I miss you. I mean…I know we only spent a couple of days a week for a few weeks together, and that time was spent with everything around you going upside down, but it didn’t stop me from memorizing every moment we had together.”

“Really? All those hours spent listening to the worst parts of my life and picking me up off the floor?” She rolled her eyes as he chuckled.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to drop everything and hold you when you cried. Every time, Syd.”

A blush tinted her cheeks and she looked down at their joined hands for a moment collecting her thoughts.

**…**

“They’re holding hands, papa!” Jake’s excited voice put a glare into Laura’s eyes as she smacked her husband’s shoulder. 

“Jonathan Bristow!” He faked injury, though the smile on his face was as genuine as the one on Jake’s. “You’re setting up your daughter!  _ Our _ daughter!”

“Someone had to, Mrs. Bristow.” Eric’s voice chimed in as he borrowed the binoculars from Sydney’s father. “Vaughn’s been miserable for months and I’m tired of having him as a third wheel for dinner every night with me and my wife.”

Laura threw her hands into the air, jostling Noah awake on her lap as he’d begun to drift off. He looked up at her with grumpy blue eyes, though their attention was pulled forward in the sky as the first firework streaked up and popped overhead.

“Do I push the button now, papa?”

“Go ahead, buddy.” 

Jake pulled the little remote from the pocket of his overalls, aiming it at the house. “Bofe?”

At his grandfather’s nod, he pressed both the green and the orange buttons, Jack looking through the optics once more.

**…**

The speakers in the living room crackled making the pair look away from one another for a moment, soft piano playing quietly all around them. A moment after the music started the fireplace to their right lit up, and Sydney rolled her eyes heavenward remembering her fathering mentioning that he’d gotten a  _ ‘remote control for the living room’ _ a few days earlier.

Knowing he was sitting up there with what amounted to a cock-sure grin, she glared with a smirk into the darkness. Though she couldn’t see the top of the hill from the vantage of the living room, she could see the silhouettes of the people sitting still juxtaposed against the flashes of the fireworks that had apparently started. 

“I feel we’ve been set up,” Michael chuckled looking back over at the blushing and grinning young woman in front of him.

“Yeah – my dad’s subtle at times. This isn’t one of those times.” 

Michael moved closer, his palms itching to just pull her into his arms and kiss her, his memory going back to the hotel room and relishing the feel of her mouth against his. 

“So you missed me?” She jested, stepping forward.

“Well, you and the boys.”

A genuine look of shock passed across her face. “Really?”

“Sydney, I missed everything about you, and that includes the boys. Just tell me what you want me to be and I’ll be it. Tell me what you want and...I’ll do it.”

_ ‘What do you want?’ _ It was honestly something she asked herself a dozen times a day at least over the last few months. She’d always justified being rational and logical with  _ her _ wants because she had children and  _ their _ wants and needs came first. But…here was a man standing in front of her that had already factored in the boys and was curious about what she wanted after that fact.

“I want someone in my life that my boys can look up to.” Michael nodded slowly and carefully. “I…I don’t want to be alone anymore.” She sighed speaking honestly.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Syd.”

She reached her left hand out to grasp the back of his neck pulling him down as she pressed her lips to his.

**…**

Jack lowered the binoculars with a satisfied smile, his gaze turning to his grandson who had turned his focus to the light display above. Laura, on the other hand, had a permanent frown marring her beautiful face. “Please don’t be upset, darling.”

“You set this whole thing up without even talking with me.”

“Would you have planned any of it with me?”

Silence.

“Laura, she told me how she felt about him months ago. I’ve been giving her time and space and advice, and she just…hasn’t done anything with it.”

“You didn’t tell me any of that,” she mumbled, her features softening. 

Jack just shrugged, his chipper demeanor remaining despite the still-upset look on his wife’s face. “Trust me.”

Minutes passed as the show above them escalated, the parents looking up as the young pair returned with hands laden with blankets, flashlights, and even a beer as he’d requested. 

“Your beer, Cassanova,” his daughter chided, handing over the brew as he looked up at her attempting an innocent smile.

Jake couldn’t hide the smile from his face either, Noah immediately demanding, grumpily, to sit in his mother’s lap for the rest of the show. “Can I sit on your lap, Michael?”

“Sure buddy,” he grunted as he flopped down on the freshly laid blanket, Sydney settling next to him with the little brother. Noah’s blue eyes were drooping though he was trying desperately to stay focused on the light show ahead, failing a few moments later as he flopped back against his mother’s chest, thumb in his mouth, as his other hand reached up and sat against her jaw. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead as her knee bounced against Michael’s.

When all was said and done, the pair moved upstairs to put the kids to bed, Jake arguing as he assured in a loud voice that he wasn’t sleepy.

“It’s almost midnight, Jake, you’re sleepy.” Sydney wasn’t taking no for an answer as Michael set the boy onto his bed and moved to stand against the doorway. He felt a little awkward since he didn’t know what to do, and she hadn’t given him any directions but he didn’t want to leave. If he was going to be a part of these lives, he’d have to learn how to put the kids to bed eventually.

“But I want to stay awake,” the little boy groused as he pouted atop the coverlet.

“But I want you to go to sleep,” Sydney countered as she lay the sleeping two-year-old on the changing table and pulled off his little jeans and shirt, the diaper coming next, all without waking him as he sucked at his thumb with a contented sigh.

“We always do what you want. I want to stay up and play wiff Michael!”

Vaughn couldn’t help the grin that tilted the corner of his lips upward, though it disappeared when he heard the mother’s knowing sigh. He’d heard that sound a thousand times from his mom when he was a kid, so he knew the length of rope that was Sydney’s patience was getting shorter with each word the almost five-year-old tossed out.

“We can play tomorrow, pal.” Michael’s voice was soothing to Sydney as she was a short moment away from snapping at her eldest, but Jake didn’t seem to think the suggestion was enough.

“No! I want to play now!” His little outburst was accompanied by the fact that he’d jumped down and stomped his little foot while crossing his arms over his chest. The look on his face was pure defiance, and Michael again had to try and keep the smile from his face as he watched the child square off against his mother – though it was quite clear who was in charge as Sydney turned to face her son with her arms crossed and a stern look in her brown eyes.

“Jacob Jonathan Montgomery, you had better change your attitude or you won’t be doing  _ anything _ this weekend.”

_ ‘Oooh, the middle name.’  _ Michael was fascinated. In all the times he’d spent at the Bristow house the boys had been literal angels, though he knew that any kid could go through a ‘terrible’ phase. He didn’t peg Jake as the defiant one, however, and while other guys may have had the urge to run screaming for the hills he found he was excited to get to learn something new about the family that had burrowed into his heart.

Jake’s eyes scowled as crystalline blue glared into light brown, Michael unsure for a moment who was going to make the first move.

“You let me stay up on weekends, momma,” he ground out, though his voice was a bit softer after the scolding at his outburst.

“It’s Wednesday, and it’s already later because it was a special night. It’s bedtime.”

He didn’t reply, merely shook his head ‘no’.

“Time out.” Her voice was quiet though the tone left no room for argument. 

Jake crumpled – literally. Michael watched as his face fell, his eyes filled with tears, and his arms uncrossed before he clasped his hands together as if praying. His tiny watery voice broke Vaughn’s heart. “No, mommy, no! Please, no!”

“Time out.” She pointed a finger to the chair that the older man just noticed was sitting opposite of the beds and faced to look out the window, though it was black night outside and nothing was visible.

The boy hung his head as tears spilled down his cheeks in big fat drops, and he dejectedly turned and walked toward the time-out chair. He stopped a few feet from the wooden seat and looked back at his mother.

“Do I…hafta go the whole time?” Breaking his heart just a little more, Michael felt his chest tighten at the strangled little voice.

“Have you gotten any younger since the last time out?”

“No,” he moaned following with a sob.

“You know the rules. One minute for every year. You’re in for four and a half minutes. I’ll come back upstairs when time is up to tuck you in, okay?” Vaughn didn’t know how she did it – her voice was soft and soothing and yet had that perfect motherly sternness that told everyone listening she was serious and couldn’t be swayed.

She waited until the toddler was seated, his little hands covering his face as he cried, before picking up Noah and laying him in the crib. Covering him with the light blanket she turned to look at Michael with exasperation reflected in her eyes before walking past him and pulling the door half-closed.

“I don’t know how you do it, Syd. My heart  _ literally _ broke in half.” She laughed as they moved down the hallway, his hand resting against the small of her back.

“I want to say you’ll get used to it, but I think it’s a mom thing. My father crumbles every time and Jake gets out of time out after fifteen seconds.”

Heading down the steps they spotted Laura and Emily in the kitchen with cups of tea as Bill, Eric, and Jack sat in the living room by the fireplace with amber liquor in their glasses.

“The boys go down, sweetheart?” Laura was still nervous and couldn’t help the momma-bear instinct as Michael set a hand to her daughter’s shoulder before they separated to join their respective sexes.

“Of course not, Jake threw a fit. He’s in time-out and I have-”, pausing a moment to check her watch, “three minutes before I can go tuck him in.”

Emily nodded knowingly as Sydney moved to the sink and began washing the dishes. She was elbow deep in soapy bubbles when her watch beeped. Looking around for something for her hands, Laura realized that all the towels had been used up.

Vaughn poked his head into the kitchen. “Want me to check on Jake, Syd?” She could hear the concern in his voice as well as the nervousness, but she figured that this would be an easy test for him.

“If you don’t mind; I’ll be up in a minute.”

“I’ll go grab some towels, honey.” Laura rose following behind the young lawyer as he turned at the end of the hall into the boy’s room while she stopped at the linen closet in the hallway. Two voices came from the open door, one high and the other low, and she couldn’t help but listen in.

“Jake? Your mom said I could get you out of time-out, buddy.” 

The little boy was sitting still in the seat, his shoulders low and his head hung. He didn’t respond to Michael’s voice so the man moved farther into the room grabbing one of the small chairs at the play table and sidling up next to the child.

“You ready to get to bed, pal?”

Turning watery blue eyes up to Vaughn, “do you hate me, Michael?”

“What?! Of course not, Jake! Why would you think that?” He was shocked and it showed on his face while he set a comforting hand over the boy’s back.

The troubled child looked back at his feet rather than answer for a moment, and his whispered words made a bubble of sadness move into Michael’s chest. “I’m a bad kid…you don’t like bad kids.”

“Buddy – just because you went to time-out doesn’t make you a bad kid. You’re the best kid I know.”

“My daddy said I’m a bad kid.”

Michael froze at the quiet words and found himself for a moment at a loss. Reaching down he cupped Jake’s chin and made him look into his eyes. “You are  _ not _ a bad kid.”

“But my daddy-”

“No, Jake. Your daddy was wrong. You’re a good boy.”

“I didn’t listened to my mommy.”

Michael nodded and moved his hand to rub large circles over the boy’s back. “You know…when I was your age I didn’t listen very well to my mom either.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I got sent to the time-out chair so much that I wore out the pad on the seat. Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

Jake vehemently shook his head. “You never hurt my mommy or my brother - you...you’re a good guy.”

“But I went to time-out a  _ lot _ …so shouldn’t I be a bad guy?”

He saw the wheels turning in the boy’s head and sent him a comforting smile. “Going to time-out doesn’t make you a bad kid, it just gives you a chance to learn from your mistake. Are you going to listen to your mom next time?”

His eyes filled with tears as he nodded vigorously before throwing his arms around Michael’s neck. Lifting him up with a chuckle he stood and dropped him with a thump onto the fluffy bed. 

“Get your pajamas, I’ll help you get ready for bed.” Sitting on the edge of the bed Michael watched as the boy moved over to his nightstand and pulled out a book on dinosaurs, returning and handing it over. The man noticed how worn it was and knew it must have been Jake’s favorite. He flipped through the first few pages with a grin as Jake grabbed his pajamas and went into the bathroom. 

In the hallway, Laura mentally scolded herself for acting so overprotective. Grabbing towels from the linen closet she made her way back down and switched with Sydney to finish the dishes.

Having brushed his teeth, dressing, and washed his face, Jake moved back into the room with the Spiderman footie jammies shuffling against the thick carpet. The almost five-year-old climbed into the bed, tugged the comforter down, and snuggled in. Vaughn moved to the headboard and stretched his legs out, feet crossing at the end, and began reading the story to the yawning child.

Sydney climbed the steps hearing the low voice read the words  _ “the Jurassic Period,” _ a smile gracing her lips as she stepped quietly into the doorway and leaned against the frame. She tried hard to separate the past from the present, but that book had been Jake’s favorite bedtime story for two years, and Rick had delighted in reading it to him each and every night the same way Michael was at that very moment.

Jake had been feeling left out in the first week after Noah was born and managed to use Bambi eyes to get his daddy to read it four or five times in a row. Each night that week she’d had to intervene or her husband would have likely read it 1,000 times after being struck in the heart with,  _ “pweeze daddy” _ .

“Syd?” She was startled out of her memory as Michael waved his hand in front of her face.

“Hey...sorry - I was a mile away.” She peered past his shoulder to see Jake sound asleep against his pillow with the blankets tucked in around his waist and legs. “Thanks for helping tonight.”

Michael blushed and looked down for a moment. “I thought it would be a whole hell of a lot harder to get him to sleep.”

“Well, it’s midnight - four hours past his bedtime,” she grinned.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not as good as you at reading about dinosaurs?”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’ll just have to try harder next time I guess.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment as neither really knew the next move to make, Michael finally just holding his hand out and letting her take it and step into his frame. She settled her cheek against his chest and her hands around his waist as his wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair tickled his nose and he breathed in the floral scent while closing his eyes.

“What are you doing Friday?” His question was a whisper but he felt her smile against the cotton of his button-up shirt. She pulled back as her hands slid down to his sides.

“I don’t really have a life, Michael,” her dimples out in full as she sent him a genuine smile. 

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, “then you can’t say no to a date.”

She nodded slowly and he released a pent-up breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Friday. Want to have the boys along?”

Sydney peered back into the room as her eyes fell on Noah snoring with his thumb wedged in his mouth and Jake zonked out on his pillow with a leg already dangling off the edge of the bed. “I think...I think maybe just you and me,” she suggested looking back into his green eyes, “unless you...you would rather -”

“No...no - that’s great.” He stepped away slightly as his hands went down her arms until just their fingertips were touching. “I should probably head out - grab Eric before tells all of my most embarrassing moments to your parents.”

Spending the better part of the next hour with her mom cleaning the patio and kitchen, Jack snoring from the living room where he’d passed out on the couch, Sydney wiped at the counters as fatigue set in, The back of her hand stifled a yawn when she caught her mother leaning against the opposite counter staring at her.

“What?”

“I think that Michael is...good for you.” 

Realizing it couldn’t have been easy for Laura to admit Sydney mirrored her mother’s stance with a grin. “I’m proud of you, mom.”

The elder Bristow rolled her eyes with a crooked grin and looked away. Sydney continued, “no really - I...I know that I’ve given you and dad plenty of reasons to be protective and I honestly didn’t expect your reaction to be anything less.”

“He’s a good boy.” 

Sydney laughed as they tossed the towels onto the counter. “That brings me to Friday. He asked me out on a date. Can you and dad babysit?”

Her mother moved to the fridge and looked at the calendar for a moment. “Sure. Your dad has that fundraiser, but I’m just helping the committee set up the silent auction. I can go do that, shmooze a bit with the wives, then head home before the dinner starts.”

“If you guys have plans we could make it a different day-” Sydney started, Laura waving her off.

“Please don’t make me sit and listen to another psychology symposium lecture series. You’ll be doing  _ me  _ a favor if you stick with Friday, sweetheart.”

They shared a laugh as the daughter moved upstairs to check on the boys before heading to bed, Laura standing for a moment watching Jack pretend to sleep. “Working on your eavesdropping, darling?”

Cracking a smile and an eye he couldn’t help but shrug. “I’m proud of you too.”

Tossing her hands in the air she turned and left him in the dark living room as his laughter followed her up the stairs.

**…**


	16. Friday - Part 1

Sydney checked the time on her phone for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, seeing that only a few minutes had passed since her previous check. Both boys were napping, and though Laura was due home in two hours to take over babysitting with Michael there a half-hour later to pick her up for their date, she knew she should be doing something productive instead of letting nervous excitement eat her from the inside out.

Grabbing the baby monitor with a huff and turning off the television she walked up the stairs and peeked her head into the boy’s room. Both were still out as the drawn curtains across the room blocked the late-afternoon sun but cast a warm yellow hue across the sleeping children. A small smile tilted her lips as she left the door open a little before moving off toward the bathroom connected to her bedroom. Flipping on the shower she let it heat up before setting the baby monitor on the counter, stripping, and hopping in.

A half-hour later she stood in a pair of shorts and a camisole with the hairdryer blowing in her ear, though she still caught the muffled noise over the monitor. Stopping with her hair still damp, she stood still for a moment hearing Noah calm down a bit and things go back to quiet. Finishing the drying, she plugged in the curler and set out to do her makeup base, though she was still almost two hours ahead of schedule. Sticking three or four pins in her mouth she combed and gathered her hair up into a bun as some strands loosed around her fingers - those she would curl.

Several minutes later another squawk from Noah made her jump and poke her eye with the liner pencil, a soft curse followed by a groan as she once again held still and squinted against the sting while waiting for her youngest to nod back off. 

_ ‘He should sleep for another hour or so,’  _ she thought to herself, but fate wasn’t on her side. Expecting him to begin his usual stuffed animal chat, she thought:  _ ‘I can probably get away with finishing my makeup while he entertains himself’ _ . His whimpering cry made her frown, and she quickly set her makeup down and unplugged the curler, making her way back toward the crying little boy.

“Oh sweetie, what’s going on?” Reaching for him she instantly felt the fever permeating from his little body, his hands reaching up for her as he sobbed.

_ ‘Please don’t wake up your brother, naps are the only thing that will save this whole afternoon.’ _ Pleading silently she lifted the toddler up against her chest cradling the back of his head and using her lips to his forehead to try and garner how high his temperature was and if she should worry.

His cry turned into a gag, Sydney barely having time to grab the light blanket from the crib and drop it at her feet before the boy lost his lunch and almost a full bottle of water across her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut with a sigh and held him still as he dry-heaved, the liquid seeping into the fabric she was wearing and dripping down her legs.

“Jake? Sweetie, wake up, I need you to do me a favor.” His little grumble made her turn to see him sitting up and rubbing at his still heavy eyelids. Noah sobbed against her shoulder and she rubbed his back in soothing circles. “Can you go into the bathroom and get me a towel?”

He nodded and she watched him slide out of bed and pad over to the bathroom returning a moment later with a towel and handing it up to her. She accepted it gratefully but took a moment to set the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling that he was a little warm but it was likely from his cozy spot under the covers. 

“Do you feel okay?”

“Mmhmm,” he responded lazily as he climbed back up into the bed. She wiped at her legs trying to ensure that she wasn’t going to track any vomit into the carpet on a trek to her bathroom across the hall, making it to the tile floor as the little boy in her arms hiccupped and gagged again, another bout of throwing up missing his mother but landing on the rug in front of the sink. She moved to turn on the bathtub while cooing soothing words to her son as he sobbed and rubbed his forehead against her neck in an attempt to climb into her for comfort.

“It’s okay, sweetie. C’mon, let’s jump in the bath.” Managing to get his clothes off while he clung to her she slid him into the lukewarm water, keeping it cool in order to not aggravate his fever. Standing she shimmied out of the cami by dragging it down her body rather than over her head keeping her finished hair in mind, kicking it aside along with her shorts. Stepping into the tub she used a washcloth to rinse them both off before gathering him up against her chest and holding him to get to his back and legs. He began to cry into her shoulder, Sydney sitting him down and using a cup to run water over his head in an attempt to get the gunk out of his hair. 

Once she was reasonably certain that they were each relatively clean, she hopped out and wrapped them both in a fluffy towel, but stayed in the bathroom where the tile floor would be much easier to clean than other parts of the house. Noah calmed a little, so she walked back into the kid’s room to get his bottle, filling it about halfway with water and pushing it into his hands. He drank it greedily attempting to rid the taste from his mouth and quell his upset stomach as he set his head on his mother’s shoulder. His fever still raged, and she sighed with a rub of her cheek against his that her plans for the evening just got trumped.

With her free hand she grabbed her phone off the counter and called the pediatrician - the first and least depressing of the calls she needed to make over the next few minutes. After talking with the doctor, him not surprised as several children had been in that day with the same symptoms, he declared it just a stomach bug and that the family would need to weather the storm. Fluids, light meals, and plenty of rest was his recommendation, Sydney thanking him and hanging up. Looking down at Noah seeing that he was calmer though a little pale, she sat on the stool in front of the mirror and set a kiss to his forehead before dialing her mother.

Noise and music played through the earpiece, though her mother’s voice was clear indicating that she’d stepped away to answer the call.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hi, mom. I know you wanted me to rescue from that fundraiser, but you might as well stay with dad. Noah’s throwing up; I’m going to have to cancel with Michael.”

Laura tisked, “I can come to take care of him, Sydney, you don’t need to cancel.”

“It’s okay mom. I doubt I’d be able to have a good time with a sick baby at home. You stay and save dad from spending too much at the silent auction.”

“Damn. We’ll be home around midnight, maybe a little after.” Sydney smiled as the older Bristow grumbled and wished her daughter luck before hanging up.

Heaving a sigh, she dialed the last number, feeling for the first time in almost a week that she  _ didn’t _ want to talk with Vaughn. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey!”

Just the sound of his voice made her relax a bit. “Hi. Sorry to call while you’re working, let me know if you’re busy.”

“No, no - it’s alright, I’m just wrapping up some paperwork. I’m out of the office in a half-hour, and then I’ll head your way?”

She sighed. “You have no idea how hard this phone call was to make, but I - I have to cancel tonight.”

His smile fell as Eric walked into his office carrying a manila envelope filled with papers, curiosity on his face at the distraught look his friend harbored. “Why? What happened?”

“Noah woke up sick and I...as much as I wanted to be your date tonight I have to be a mom instead.”

She could hear the disappointment in his voice though was sure she had it in hers as well. “Oh, poor little guy. It’s fine, Syd, I get it.”

They shared a moment of silence, Vaughn hearing Noah whimper in the background. “How bad is it?”

“Doc says it’s a stomach bug - a bunch of kids have it. Fluids and the usual, let it work out of his system. Though work out of his system means throw up twice on me and once on the bathroom rug.” His chuckle made her smile.

“Momma?” He heard Jake’s little voice in the distance, and he strained to catch their muffled conversation.

“Hi, little roo. You can go back to bed if you-” her sentence was cut off by a wretch, Michael knowing instantly what had happened without even needing to be there. “Shit,” he heard her whisper. 

“I gotta go, I’m sorry again about tonight.” She sat Noah on the floor, the boy not happy with being usurped by his brother and throwing himself backward with a cry.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? To check up on everyone?”

For a brief moment Michael felt relief that he wasn’t in the middle of that particular storm, though guilt filled his gut as he realized that  _ she _ was not only in the middle, but trapped in said storm.

Alone.

She tossed a quick goodbye before hanging up, and he set his cell down on the desk with a frown wrinkling his forehead, a distant look in his eyes.

“Sorry, Vaughn, I know you were really looking forward to tonight.” Weiss flopped into the chair opposite his friend’s desk looking over the papers he was ferrying. “What happened? Kids okay?”

Silence was his answer and looking up he realized that Michael was a thousand miles away.

“Vaughn? Hey,” Eric snapped his fingers, catching the other lawyer's attention.

“I need to talk to your wife, gimme your phone.”

“What?” Eric was taken aback by the suddenness of Michael’s request.

“I don’t have her number in my phone, lemme use yours.”

“Why do you need to talk to her?”

“Because Nadia’s a pediatrician.”

“Why do you need a pediatrician?”

Vaughn glared, Eric handing his phone over with narrowed cautious eyes as Michael pushed a few buttons and put the phone on speaker.

“Hey love, what’s up?” Her voice with a soft Argentine accent flowed through the speaker.

“Hey, you’re on speaker. Vaughn needed a pediatrician.”

“Because he’s a child?”

Michael cut in. “Ha, very funny. What would I need to pick up for a couple of little kids that have a stomach bug? Sydney called and canceled because her kids are sick and it sounds like a war zone over there. I thought I could go help.” He lost some of his bravado, picking up and twirling a pen between his fingers. “Do...do you think I could help? Does she need help? Will it make her, you know...feel like...weird? Is it weird that I want to help?”

Nadia cooed, “Aww, pequeño y romántico Michel, you are very sweet. Of course she needs help. First, and I probably don’t need to tell you this, but tonight won’t be a chance for some  _ alone  _ time.”

“Nadia,” Vaughn growled frowning though he knew she couldn’t see it.

She shrugged and continued with a laugh. “Second, you’re going to get puked on if you go.”

“Really?”

“Kids are like little fountains when they’re sick. Almost no warning, then blech,” she replicated a vomit noise through the earpiece before continuing. “If you think you can handle that, I’ll give you a list of things to pick up.”

“I’ve got a pen, go ahead.”

“Dios, you really love this girl. Vomit, Michael - lots of vomit.”

“Uh-huh, let’s go with that list. It’s a forty-minute drive up there and I’ll need to hit the store and my house beforehand.”

Nadia rambled off items, Vaughn wholly ignorant about what they actually were until he got to, “one bottle of red wine, and Castore de Vino Lasagna. It’s in the freezer section and is the best easy-to-prepare meal you could hope for. Get a salad to go with it.”

“Thanks, Nadia, you’re the best.”

“Oh, and take ten shirts.”

He laughed, though she clarified she wasn’t joking. “Ten? Seriously?”

“If you take three you’ll need five. Take ten shirts and some extra pajama pants and remember, be prepared to be puked on.” 

He thanked her once more, hanging up and tossing the phone back to his friend before grabbing his coat off the rack near the door. 

“Vaughn, you don’t know the first thing about sick kids. Or...kids in general,” Eric reminded following him from the office, Michael flipping off the light.

“I know that they need,” looking down at the hand-written list, “Pedialyte when they throw up a lot.”

“Seriously, how much help can you be? Have you thought that you might just be in the way and just another thing for her to worry about?”

“No. But, if I’m in the way, I’ll just get out of the way, Eric.” Grabbing the files his friend was holding, he waved to their secretary and was in the process of pushing the front door open before Weiss called his attention.

“That’s the Jackson file. Familiarize yourself with the details, we have a meeting with him Monday morning at eight o’clock.” Vaughn waved with a nod, the door closing behind him. “Good luck!”

**…**

Noah had passed out against her shoulder, the bottle of water clutched in his hands. The children’s Tylenol was starting to kick in, her second attempt to administer as the first round of the sticky pink substance ended up on her third freshly changed shirt. He’d only eaten five or six spoonfuls of watery oatmeal before grumpily pushing it away and demanding cuddles, Sydney accommodating and settling Jake onto another chair she slid to her side. He held the sippy cup up and drank a bit after rejecting his piece of toast after one bite.

“I know you don’t want to eat it, honey, but it’ll make your tummy feel a lot better.” Her voice was a whisper as she tilted her head and leaned her cheek against Jake’s forehead, the older boy seeming to have less of a fever but more of a turbulent stomach. 

If throwing up were a contest, and if the kids were older perhaps they’d compete this way, Jake would be winning five to four. Unfortunately, no one was winning in this scenario and Sydney knew the moment both boys fell asleep that she would tackle the sticky pile of clothes, towels, and blankets upstairs and here in the kitchen, getting them into the laundry as fast as possible. The overwhelming smell of cleaner wafted up to her nose once more as the trusty bottle and roll of paper towels sat on the counter within easy reach.

A soft knock on the door pulled their attention, Jake looking up with hopeful eyes. “Maybe grammy is home?”

“Can you sit tight for a minute while mommy goes to get the door?”

He nodded but set his juice cup down and flopped back against the back of the chair looking tired and pale. She rose and resettled Noah to her hip, the boy whimpering and clinging to her shirt in an attempt to stay in her arms through his restless bout of light sleep.

Pulling the door open Sydney froze seeing Michael on the doorstep with two big paper grocery bags. “Wh-what are you...you’re-”

“Hi,” he whispered seeing the toddler asleep on her shoulder. “It sounded like you really needed some help, so - here I am.”

She couldn’t shake off her surprise but stepped aside giving him room to move through as he carried the bags into the kitchen. Sydney closed the door quickly and followed hearing Jake’s uplifted voice.

“You came over!” Vaughn set the bags on the counter and turned to set his hand atop the boy’s head.

“Of course, I thought maybe you guys wanted to hang out. How are you feeling, pal?”

“My frew up five times.”

Michael blanched looking to the young mother for confirmation, seeing her nod with a wince. “Five times?! I hate throwing up.”

“Me too,” the boy muttered and reached his arms up to Michael. “Can I has hugs?”

The man’s heart grew and he quickly agreed, lifting him slowly up and setting Jake to his hip wrapping his arms around him. Moving over to Sydney he pulled her and Noah in pressing kisses against all three heads feeling the fever in the tiniest with a grimace. “I’m sorry you’re sick, guys. How can I help?”

“I can’t believe you came all the way over here.” She couldn’t help but voice her surprise, Vaughn grinning down at her. “You’re saving my life right now.”

“That was my plan,” he assured as she flashed a dimpled smile in his direction. Heading to the counter Jake set his head to his shoulder watching as he unpacked the groceries.

“So, Eric’s wife, Nadia, is a pediatrician, and she gave me a whole list of things that I hope I got right.” 

“You called a pediatrician?” Despite both of her children feeling awful, Sydney felt lighter than ever. The gloomy day was suddenly bright, and the air of disappointment at having to cancel had been replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“Yep.  _ She _ said to get as much Pedialyte as possible, so boom -” he set three boxes, nearly forty small bottles, onto the counter, “- as much as I could get.”

“Dat’s my favorite,” Jake explained as he pointed to the purple-colored grape juice. Sydney grabbed his cup from the table and popped the lid as Vaughn broke the seal and opened the bottle, their teamwork filling the cup and placing it into the smiling boy’s hand. 

Jake still looked pale, “be careful with him - he doesn’t give much warning when he’s about to lose it,” Sydney explained, though Michael seemed to brush it off as he continued to unpack the paper sacks. Lifting out a stack of t-shirts, some paint stained or sporting a few holes here and there, she grinned.

“I came prepared. Ten shirts, per Nadia’s warning. Here are some OTC meds she recommended, I wasn’t sure if you had some already, but I grabbed it all. Also-” he paused and held up the lasagna, “- for when we get hungry, and if it comes to it, everyone’s favorite -” In his fist was the bottle of red wine.

“Now you’re talkin’,” she laughed, Noah waking against her shoulder with a whimper. The baby realized he still wasn’t feeling well and tossed a small fit by throwing himself backward in frustration, Sydney catching him with her other arm while Michael jostled Jake to do the same as a look of panic crossed his face.

The youngest cried and threw the bottle on the floor before burying his face into his mother’s neck going limp as he gave up while sobbing. “I know, pumpkin, I’m sorry,” she said softly and rubbed his back in soothing circles.

Vaughn reached down to pick up the discarded bottle thinking he would use the rest of Jake’s juice for Noah when he saw shock cross Sydney’s face, the boy clinging to him muttering a tiny, “ut oh,” before losing the juice and few bites of oatmeal and toast down the front of Michael’s shirt and jeans, the lot dripping down on his shoes as it was mostly liquid.

Spinning quickly Michael redirected the rest of the boy’s gagging into the kitchen sink as he cupped the underside of Jake’s chin to keep him steady. Pushing a kiss to his temple he wet a paper towel and wiped at the child’s mouth when all was said and done. 

Noah had drifted back into fitful sleep against her shoulder but she offered to take Jake from him anyway, assuming Michael would run for the hills. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, Michael laughing as he used a towel to wipe at his and Jake’s chests before dabbing his pants and kicking his shoes off toward the fridge. 

“I knew what I signed up for. Let’s go changed, shall we?” He asked Jake, the boy nodding and leaning his head back to Michael’s shoulder, the group moving upstairs.

After getting Noah settled into the crib and down for a nap that would hopefully let the meds make him more comfortable, Michael read Jake his dinosaur book after they all got a fresh set of clothes. The boy passed out quickly and Vaughn tucked him onto a mat on the floor draping a blanket over his back. The man watched with a small smile as Sydney gathered up the pile of towels, blankets, the bath mat, and shirts and carried them out of the room, a few of Noah’s tiny clothes dropping to the floor. 

“I got it,” he called out following behind, Sydney having him grab the baby monitor by the door on the way out of the room.

The laundry room was on the first floor near the garage, Sydney entering and tossing the pile of clothes into the washing machine with a “blech”, pouring in a healthy dose of detergent before closing the lid and setting the cycle.

“How on Earth could you do this on your own, Syd?” Once her hands were free he reached out and pulled her against his chest. 

Responding with a sigh she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head into his neck. “Magic?” she mumbled against his throat as he laughed and held her tight rubbing soothing circles much like she had done for Noah earlier.

“Thank you for coming over,” she said sincerely leaning back and looking into his shining green eyes. 

At that moment Michael noticed her makeup and hair and realized for the first time since his arrival and their whirlwind activity with the boys that the interruption of sick kids happened in the middle of her date preparation. Cupping her cheek he whispered, “you look beautiful.”

A slight blush tinted her cheeks as she stepped up and pressed a brief kiss to his mouth, “thank you,” she whispered. 

**…**


	17. Friday - Part 2

After two loads of laundry, three distant fifteen-minute naps from each of the boys at alternate times, and a brief moment of quiet that they spent eating the delicious lasagna, the haggard adults collapsed onto the living room couch. They each sighed at the stillness, laughing as they did it in tandem.

“I never thought sick could be this exhausting,” he admitted closing his eyes and flopping the back of his head against the soft cushion. He heard her laugh and cracked an eye seeing her resting in much the same position.

Sydney set her hand over his on the couch between them, “thanks for coming tonight. It really surprised me, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

“It sounded like a nightmare - I couldn’t just leave you on your own.”

“You scored some major points tonight.”

“How many total points do I have?” Their voices were light and jovial.

“Thirty-eight,” she deadpanned.

His eyes were still closed as he chuckled, his fingers twining around hers. “Is that a lot?”

“I don't know, I just said the first number that popped into my head,” she joked.

“What time is it?”

Cracking an eye she peeked at the clock hanging over the fireplace. “Nine-fifteen.”

“God, really? It feels like it’s one in the morning.”

They shared a comfortable silence until he felt the couch shift and heard her grunt and stretch as she stood. Peering up with half-closed eyes, “where you goin’?”

“Want a glass of wine?” She moved past at his nod.

Michael sat in quiet contemplation a moment before deciding to speak, though he didn’t desire to get up. “Hey, I have a question for you, and I want you to be honest,” he called out hearing her distant confirmation. “Does it bother you if I drink around you and the boys? It’s something I want to clarify.”

“Why would it bother me?” Her holler was curious.

“Because of Rick.”

Sydney emerged a moment later with two glasses of red wine and a soft smile lightening her features. “If alcohol had been the issue,  _ I _ wouldn’t drink.”

“I just don’t want it to bring up any bad feelings, you know? If it does, boom - done.” Punctuating his sentences with a sip of the crimson liquid, she laughed and curled her legs underneath her lithe frame on the opposite end of the couch.

“I didn’t blame the alcohol. I’m constantly surprised by how thoughtful you are with these things, but don’t let this bug you.” She punctuated the word ‘this’ with a nod to the wine in her hand.

They sat quietly for a moment though she could tell that despite what she said he seemed less than satisfied. “Do you not like my answer?”

“I don’t ever want to remind you of Rick. You or the boys.” While his voice was almost casual but his eyes were fierce in their honesty.

She looked away in a distant ponder, choosing her words carefully before speaking. “I don’t...really know what you want me to say. I mean, there are parts of Rick that I miss and there are things that you have in common with him.” She saw wrinkles pop out on his forehead and quickly clarified with a hand on his knee, “I don’t make comparisons. Please don’t think I sit around the house every day comparing you with Rick - I don’t.”

The wrinkles slowly disappeared and he nodded with a sideways grin, “maybe I’m just overthinking things.”

“I spent the first two weeks with you sharing every detail of my darkest moments, there’s plenty to overthink.”

They shared a chuckle and enjoyed the silence that followed. After a moment she took a sip of wine and spoke. “Tell me about  _ you _ . You’ve heard enough about me and I’m realizing that I really don’t know much about you.”

“Well, my name’s Michael, and I’m a lawyer.” Her dimples jumped out as she laughed.

“Why did you become a lawyer?”

“Well, it was partly because of my dad, but I spent a summer as an intern in his office before my senior year of high school and got my feet a little wet.”

“And you loved it.”

Michael scoffed with a grin, “hell no. I hated almost every minute of that summer.”

“Yet -” she left off gesturing with her hand in his direction. 

“Yet, here I am. To be fair, I said  _ almost  _ every minute. The last week I got to help prepare for a court case where these grandparents were trying to get custody of their grandkids. Their daughter had a serious drug problem. They’d been given the runaround by her lawyer so they finally decided to get one of their own. My job was to take notes and make copies of the paperwork - make sure it was all filed the right way.”

“Wow - that’s...that’s an awful situation.”

“Yeah. Up till then, I’d been a glorified secretary and the most I’d heard legal wise from my dad was one-sided chunks of phone conversations about wills, company policies, and advice on hiring and firing for said companies. Boring,  _ boring _ stuff. But this was the first time I was sucked in. My dad played it so cool, you know? I mean...these people were desperate for hope, and my dad just said, ‘don’t worry - I’ll figure it out’. Nothing rattled that guy, you know? For the first time, I was...in awe. I begged him to let me stick around and help because I just had to know, you know?”

He hadn’t realized how lost he’d become in talking about that case until he finally looked up and saw the supportive and curious gleam in her eyes and the small smile on her lips as she watched him talk about something he truly loved.

“So you guys won the case.”

“Nope. The lady’s lawyer used a bunch of crap to allow her to keep the kids, not even giving them visitation rights.” Michael winced as he remembered them breaking down and sobbing in his father’s office.

“But dad didn’t give up. He filed again, and again, and again.”

“How many times?”

“Fourteen.” Michael laughed at her incredulous scoff. “Fourteen times until a judge agreed to a new trial. The mom showed up so high she couldn’t remember the lies her lawyer was desperately trying to feed her and the kids went home with their grandparents the same day. My dad let me be co-counsel for that one. I mean, it was sitting at the table and pretending to take notes; hand him a glass of water if he needed it, those kinds of things.”

Pausing, he lifted the wine glass and took a drink, leaning back against the soft cushion of the couch wearing a crooked, proud grin. “I felt powerful, you know? So I decided that if dad would hire me out of college I’d be a lawyer assuming he’d let me work with  _ people  _ and not the back end legal for businesses.  _ He _ would have to do the paperwork part.”

“Wow; that’s amazing.”

Another silence reigned, the pair lost in thought. Michael recalled the joyful looks across those two wrinkled faces, the children bouncing up and scampering across the aisle to vault the half-wall into the arms of their now rightful guardians.

He couldn’t help but switch the characters around in his memory, imagining Sydney in their place if she’d had to go to court against Rick. He’d pictured it before when they’d sat down in Jack’s office: her on the stand recounting for a judge and possibly a jury why her abuser shouldn’t have access to her children. He’d imagined the relief wiping worry from her face as the verdict was announced and the boys piling into her arms with Jack and Laura standing protectively over each shoulder. Rick, looking much as he had that single time they’d met, defeated in his cheap, wrinkled suit as he finally lost everything he’d deserved to lose.

Realizing after several quiet moments that he’d been lost in the fantasy he looked up with an embarrassed grin catching her staring, “sorry.” 

“Where’d you go just now?”

With a shrug, he finished the last of the wine in his glass, “just...an active imagination.”

Sydney chuckled and finished her glass as well casting it to the coffee table next to Michael’s. Leaning back against the couch she winced as a pin, or several pinched her scalp. With a sigh, she began extracting them from the confines of the updo until the wavy locks dropped around her shoulders tickling her skin.

To him, she'd never looked more beautiful. The sudden cascade of hair falling atop her chest and shoulders, the red bra showing through the white camisole as it had been since she put it on, everything about how relaxed she was made him want to pull her in and never let her go. He couldn’t stop his eyes from peeking at the edge of red lace poking out from behind the hem of the tank, the third one she'd changed into since he’d arrived, and she joked about running out before the night was over if the boys didn’t stop using her for target practice. She shook him out of his reverie by sitting up.

“Want another glass?” Rising, she reached for both, stopping as his hand lightly touched her forearm catching her attention.

“Right now? I want to kiss you,” he said, tugging her wrist with a feather-light hold that let her know she could pull away if it was unwanted. Meeting his eyes, dark green as opposed to their usual bright reflective emerald, her breath quickened in response. She leaned down as he sat up, their mouths meeting in the middle. Her hair fell in a chocolate curtain around them as he tasted the sweet yet bitter bite of the wine on her lips, knowing that his tasted much the same. 

Scooting to the very edge of the couch he straightened his back as much as it would go as he set his hands to her waist, hers resting on his shoulders. His back began to tighten, though he tried to push past it in an effort to not let the moment end. She seemed to sense his discomfort and pulled back, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip as they broke apart.

The burning lust from months ago hit them like a truck and neither could keep from remembering the night at the hotel when they’d been close like this. Now, however, there wasn’t the constant nag of Laura’s warning in each head mixed with the overwhelming feeling of  _ ‘off-limits’ _ pooling in both stomachs.

Michael was about to say that they probably shouldn’t move too quickly and send her away to the kitchen for another glass of wine, but her situational deliberation ended a split second before his. Hands pushed him back against the cushion, a weight settling over his lap as she straddled his thighs, and her pouted lips found his once more.

His grip on her waist tightened instinctively and he pulled their bodies as close together as possible. The suddenness of the transition shocked them both back to the present as their mouths separated, lips brushing with each exhale. Both minds were spinning over whether or not this should be happening. 

Sydney lost her train of thought as Michael’s mouth moved to press light nips and licks to her throat, him hearing her soft moan float like music to his ears. Moving back up she met him eagerly, Vaughn drinking in her sigh as their tongues dueled. Her left hand was now flush against his chest, his pounding heartbeat thumping behind her fingers. The other was tangled in the hair at the back of his neck as her fingernails skimmed his scalp sending shivers down his spine.

"Momma?" The timid voice of Jake called from the top of the living room stairs and both adults froze. "Can I come sit wiff you? I frew up again."

Michael couldn't stop his smile as Sydney sighed and sat back against his thighs.

"Sure, honey," she paused taking a quick breath, "I'll be right there."

Michael's hands dropped from her waist to the top of her thighs as he flashed a satisfied smile up at her flushed face. Purple-hued hazel eyes sparkled in the light and he lingered longer than a moment on the swollen lips and faint pink mark just below her right ear.

“This is what it’s like being a parent,” she spoke in a husky whisper.

“It's growing on me.” Putting his hands to the sides of her ribcage he pushed her to the left off his lap and onto the couch before sitting up. She fell willingly to her back as he leaned over between her legs and caught her lips in a soft kiss before pulling back and standing. “I’ll take clean up duty, you grab Jake.”

An hour later, the three of them were on the couch with the drone of a cartoon quietly playing on the television, Sydney's fingers absently running through Jake’s hair as he slept across their laps. The blanket was tucked around his legs and he lay with his knees bent over Michael's thighs connecting the lot of them together.

“Is this how you saw the evening going?” Her voice was quiet and pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned and saw that she’d already been studying him for who knows how long.

Michael shrugged. “Honestly?" She nodded. "I truly didn't know what to expect. I mean, Eric's wife warned me about vomit; that's it." He paused, "it's...it's okay that I'm here, right? That I came over? Do you want me to head out?" She frowned and met his eyes seeing sudden nervous worry written across his face.

"It's amazing that you're here. I mean...covered in vomit usually ends most dates." Sydney's disarming smile set him back at ease.

Michael laughed at the idea of this as their first date, and he loved the concept. "This is definitely not what I had planned for our first date."

"I'm sorry about -" she started, but he cut her off.

"Don't. This has been the best first date I've ever had."

Sydney rolled her eyes, a blush tinting her cheeks as she looked down at the slumbering child. "No it hasn’t," she whispered.

"Seriously. The lasagna was amazing, the wine was superb, and the company -" he left off, kissing the top of his fingers as if he was a chef proud of creating a world-class meal.

Sydney shook her head, though no force in existence could steal the smile from her lips. "I don't know about that."

"Well, if you're going to be so high maintenance and not accept my compliments," he exhaled a fake exasperated sigh, "I guess we can have a different theme for our second date."

"Michael, this can't be our first date. Tonight was a disaster."

The man laughed, "oh, it's absolutely our first date. Let the records show: Official First Date."

"It was the worst ever. My son puked on you.  _ Twice _ ."

"Our  _ second _ date will be better. We'll get prettied up and go to a fancy restaurant.” He paused, “and hopefully  _ not _ get puked on."

"Me too?" Jake startled them both as his blue eyes, full of hope, looked into their souls one at a time.

Michael didn’t hesitate, "sure, buddy."

"But I don't have anything pretty." It was probably because he was sick, but his voice was the saddest thing Michael had ever heard.

He responded with a nod, "well, then we’ll have to go shopping."

"Really?" Sydney and Jake asked at the same time, Michael laughing and patting the tiny knees across his lap.

"It's a date. The three of us will get pretty clothes, go to a fancy restaurant, and have a great night."

"Let's go tomorrow!" Jake sat up quickly, his face going pale as he got dizzy. 

"Easy, pal. We have to wait until you get better."

The boy slumped back against his mother, crestfallen. "Even if I'm good?" 

Sydney intervened, Michael ready to give in at the child's sad Bambi eyes. "We can't eat fancy food on an upset stomach. Let's see how you feel tomorrow, okay?"

"But I feel better, momma. My tummy is fine." He sat back up and, despite the fact that the room spun a little bit, he folded his legs criss-cross to sit upright between the adults. "I...I don't even want to frow up anymore. I fink I'm all better."

"Uh-huh," the young mother mumbled unconvinced, tilting forward to look at his pale face before setting the back of her hand against his forehead. The skin was hot and clammy, the fever back with a vengeance.

"Let's get you some more Tylenol and Pedialyte. Maybe a piece of toast?" She rose and moved into the kitchen, stopping in the entryway when she heard the gag and the ensuing episode of throwing up.

"I got it," Michael's voice called out, Sydney redirecting from the medicine cabinet to the pile of extra towels on the kitchen counter. She stopped on her way back and spun around to grab one of Michael's spare shirts from the kitchen table, assuming he would need it.

Poor Jake sat in a pale heap while goop dripped from his chin into Vaughn's cupped hand, the man attempting to both hold the boy's head up and also catch the mess before it hit the couch. The result was the two of them wearing most of the sick as the blanket between also became a casualty.

She swooped in and set the warm cloth to the child's face, Michael standing and wiping his hands on the soiled blanket before gathering it into a bundle. Miraculously, the couch was unscathed.

"Pass his shirt over, I'll toss this mess into the washer." His words were muffled making her look up with Jake's stained shirt held out toward him, stopping when she spotted tanned flesh.

Vaughn had discarded his own shirt into the middle and was now looking expectantly at Sydney, who had stopped just short from his outstretched hand.

"Syd?" He jogged for a moment, a blush rising on her cheeks as she realized she'd been gawking at his shirtlessness.

"Sorry," she blushed, Jake tugging at her arm to try and get her to take the washcloth off his face after she had stilled.

Michael laughed at the embarrassed red tint of her cheeks as he gathered everything up and moved into the laundry room. The dryer was done so he filled the empty laundry basket in the corner and swapped loads around. Seeing a folding table to his right he extended it and went about folding the dry clothes to save them some time and effort later.

Sydney watched from the door as the muscles of his back flexed while he failed at his attempts to fold child-sized clothes. She'd settled Jake back in front of the television with a nearby trashcan and a sippy cup of Pedialyte, the boy slipping back to sleep after about ten minutes of a back rub from his mother. Wondering where her partner for the night had ended up, she found him in the laundry room tackling a basket of fresh clothes, still shirtless, and stopped to admire the view.

"Until now, I never would have called a sock cute," he muttered as he held up two of Noah's tiny socks. She stifled a laugh when he tried bunching them together like he would a pair of his own socks, realizing that the little ball of cotton in his palm probably wasn't the final goal.

"How the hell do you fold baby socks?"

"Do you want to know some of my secret mom ways?" He jumped a bit and turned to glower in her direction. She was casually leaning against the doorframe with a grin, a clean shirt of his hanging to her side clutched in her hand. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, a few strands sneaking out to lie against her chest.

"I dunno; do you wanna stare a little longer before jumping in?" He chuckled, turning back to the laundry.

Sydney rolled her eyes and stepped into the room, slinging the shirt over his shoulder. "The secret is to not do anything with tiny socks. Buy them in a bundle of a million and toss them in a drawer. The child will somehow still lose the majority. I'll bet there aren't even pairs in here; pairs no longer exist."

"How's Jake?" Michael asked with a chuckle.

"Passed out on the couch after he got me one last time," she grumbled looking down at the stain on her top. "I don't even know where it comes from anymore."

He grinned and reached into the basket to pull out a freshly washed camisole from the pile in the basket. Holding it on the tip of his finger, he offered it to her. "You came to the right place." 

She smiled and took it from him, Michael going back to finding tiny socks. He didn't make an attempt to put the clean shirt on, however. Sydney sent him a sideways squint and a crooked smile deciding to call his bluff. "Thanks."

Stepping back she lifted the hem and pulled the soiled garment over her head, tossing it into the washer with the rest. Grabbing the detergent she set the load before standing back up at the sound of his low, strained voice.

"You know...you’re making it  _ very _ difficult to do the whole ‘take things slow’ thing."

She turned and leaned against the washer, her brown eyes defiant as the hazel center faded to purple. "I would hate to be the one making things difficult, mister no shirt for the last ten minutes."

They stood apart, two sets of eyes challenging the other.

"We have to take things slow, right?" Michael's question was punctuated by taking a small step forward.

" _ I _ never said we did." Sydney stayed against the washer, her elbows moving up and propping to her left and right on top of the machine. This pose effectively stuck her chest out, flesh straining against the red lace bra.

He took another step, confusion in his eyes despite the crooked grin across his lips. "Isn't it what we're  _ supposed  _ to do?"

"Michael, if you want to take things slow, I promise I won’t push you."

He cocked an eyebrow in interest and took another step. "You don't want to take it slow?"

"Truth?"

Vaughn nodded and took another step, their bodies almost touching though neither took the next step to lay hands on the other.

"I've spent the last few years of my life treading water to stay afloat." She thought for a moment, her eyes flicking down to his chest a moment before going back to his curious gaze. "And I've spent the last few  _ months _ on a roller coaster with things going way too fast and way out of my control."

Sydney met his eyes and Michael was impressed by the fiery determination in her sure stare.

“ _ This  _ time, I know what I want. Why would I slow down?”

He nodded and pulled her into the loose loop of his arms, his hands touching her warm, soft skin for the first time. She went willingly and set one hand to his shoulder as the other skimmed down his stomach feeling the muscles twitch. 

"I’ll take things slow if that’s what you need, but I sort of want to dive in headfirst." She paused, losing some of her bravado and looking down to the center of his chest, "m-maybe that's a bad thing, I don't know."

Michael's hand moved and he tilted her chin to reconnect their eyes, "it's absolutely not a bad thing. Please don't ever forget to remind me that you don't need to be coddled. I was honestly waiting for you to make all the moves not knowing where you were with all this relationship stuff." He cupped her cheek absently brushing her cheekbone with his thumb.

"What I want right now I wouldn’t call coddling."

Michael grinned and leaned in to brush his lips against hers with a soft kiss. At that moment, the garage door on the other side of the wall activated jumping them apart to stare out into the hallway like two caught teenagers: mom and dad were home.

"Oh yeah.  _ That's  _ why we have to take things slow." Stepping out of his arms she reached for the abandoned camisole on the dryer and slipped it on, Michael doing the same with the discarded shirt now lying on the floor at their feet.

They resumed folding clothes trying to squash the remaining desire as it boiled low in their stomachs. After a few quiet moments and before her parents hit the internal door to the garage Sydney leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for coming over tonight. It really has meant the world to me."

It was Michael’s turn to blush, which he followed with a smile, "my pleasure."

**...**

“I feel like I’m being chaperoned on a date by both of your parents.” Michael’s voice was quiet in the dark of the bedroom as he lay perfectly still on his back with his arms at his sides above the blanket to avoid coming into contact with the woman lying next to him.

Laura and Jack had utterly refused to let him drive home.  _ ‘Michael - it’s after midnight’ _ and  _ ‘it’s far too late and you’re too tired - you have to stay here tonight.’ _

Stay where? That was the question on everyone’s tongue at that moment. Sydney had glared at her mother over the nearly empty second glass of wine, the group sitting at the dining table and talking about the boys being sick along with the fundraiser until well after midnight. Jack had poured two glasses of brandy for himself and Michael as Sydney shared the rest of the red wine with her mother while they chatted.

The parents hadn’t left room for discussion. Laura said goodnight pulling Jack behind her while offering to check on the boys so the two of them could get some rest.  _ ‘It’s been a long night. You two get some rest, we’ll handle it from here if anything comes up.’ _

The bed shifted as Sydney rolled from her back to her side and propped her cheek on the elevated palm of her hand. “Why?”

“They’re literally in the next room over.”

“They’re down the hall. Why does it matter?”

“It’s...it feels weird.”

Her laugh was like a whisper, “I’m twenty-eight years old, not fifteen. What happened to mister, I don’t want to take it slow?”

He glared with a grin, “don’t go there, miss purple eyes.” He rolled to face her at the confused grin she sent in his direction. “You do know that when you’re turned on the center of your eyes have a purple haze, right? It’s very distracting especially since it’s been there pretty much the entire night. Well, I got distracted once I figured it out.”

Her eyes shifted away from his as a memory popped into her head:  _ “I always know when you’re in the mood, Syd.” _ It was something Rick had said to her a few times before, but every time she asked about it he would just shrug and kiss her, claiming it was his secret superpower.

“Sydney? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Michael backpedaled quickly seeing her go to another place momentarily.

She snapped out of it and sent an apologetic head shake, “no, it’s - it’s just...I didn’t know that.”

Michael’s eyes scanned hers in an effort to see if she was compartmentalizing, but she disarmed him with a dimpled smile. “So...I’m basically a sex beacon?”

He laughed, deciding that if she was going to take everything in stride, he would as well. He sensed that she wasn’t telling him everything. He knew that what he’d said had triggered some kind of memory, but Michael did honestly appreciate it when she didn’t tell him directly how or if he reminded her of Rick.

He reached between them and pulled her closer, his hand staying against her lower back with fingers gently rubbing the soft exposed skin under the hem of her camisole. She further closed the gap and slid closer until their bodies were a mere breath apart, her arm moving above his to rest her hand on his bicep before she tucked her head into his shoulder with a sigh. 

Michael felt her body begin to relax and likely could have stayed still for less than a minute and she would have been asleep, though her neck and shoulders were too inviting and he found himself peppering light kisses against them both.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to wake up my parents.” He couldn’t hold back the chuckle yet continued with his gentle exploration. 

Sydney began to lose herself in the warm tranquility created by his hands and mouth, moving her arm between them and placing her palm flat against his chest to feel the soft cotton of his undershirt, wishing it was warm smooth skin. He moved his mouth up kissing her cheek, temple, and the tip of her nose before pulling back and settling onto the pillow to face her. She wore a soft, warm smile on her lips and her eyes were still closed, though they cracked open to meet his gentle gaze.

Even in the low light of the room, he could see the purple iris’. “Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to have a four-year-old on our second date,” he grumbled in a low whisper. “I should have just planned to take you to my house where we could spend the whole weekend naked.”

Sydney couldn’t stop the groan from bubbling up in her chest and she shifted back to her side of the bed on her back, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“You okay?”

After a moment of quiet, she shook her head and sat up, leaving the bed. “I can’t do this.”

Confusion set in, Michael again thinking he’d overstepped. “I’m...what?”

She padded over to the bathroom and disappeared through the door, a sudden glare of light creating a silhouette of her as he flinched at the blinding brightness. The blankets pooled around his waist as he sat up in mild panic, Sydney turning to face him with a fire in her eyes.

“Do you really wanna take it slow?” Her voice was a soft whisper like she was nearly out of breath.

“Hell no. But-” she disappeared back into the bathroom without letting him finish. “Syd. Sydney.” His voice was a harsh and urgent whisper, and he tossed the blankets off his lap, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and moved to the main door to make sure it was closed. He was tempted to lock it, though something stopped him. The shower kicked on a moment later and he slowly walked toward the bathroom as both his breath and pulse quickened. “Are you serious right now?” His question was another harsh whisper.

Steam was emerging from behind the shower curtain, Sydney leaning over the tub to test the temperature giving Vaughn ample opportunity to stare at her backside once he was through the door. She straightened and turned, her face determined though her fidgeting hands belied her confidence.

“I just...if you want to back out, that’s okay. But...I can’t... _ lay _ there anymore. Maybe it  _ is  _ too soon, and...maybe it  _ is _ rushing things, but...all I want is you right now and I don’t know what to do with that other than this.” Words rushed from her lips as she bared her honesty, hands gesturing to the loud spraying water nearly drowning out their quiet conversation.

Michael kicked the door closed behind him and stepped forward to sweep her flush against his body with hands at her hips before crashing his mouth over hers.

**...**


	18. Good Night

**Chapter 18: Good Night**

“Morning, Sandra,” Michael greeted as he stepped into the law office, the middle-aged secretary behind the half-wall organizing papers and booting up the computer. He locked the door behind him and left the blinds low before moving through the comfortable waiting room.

“Good morning, Mister Vaughn. Mister Weiss is already prepping in his office. When Mister Johnson arrives would you like me to bring him back to the conference room?”

“Yes please,” he smiled and dropped off a coffee and a paper towel-wrapped scone on the counter.

“You must have had a good weekend,” she called at his back as he laughed and waved over his shoulder, two other coffees in the drink carrier sloshing against the plastic lids.

Weiss was just as clean-shaven and seated at his desk with his blazer hung on the hook just inside the door, looking up when Vaughn tossed a greeting from his office across the hall. His curious brown eyes watched his partner drop off the suitcase, take off his coat, and bring the coffees and breakfast snacks into his office.

“You ready? Not that there was much to go on other than his statement.” Not getting a response, Michael frowned and noticed the studious nature of Weiss’s demeanor. “What?” He asked as he set a coffee and scone down for his friend. Taking a bite of his own pastry he flopped into the chair across from the dark-brown oak desk.

“You got laid,” Eric answered with a grin.

Responding with a hearty eye roll and standing to leave just as he sat, “you’re such a child.” Still, he couldn’t help the grin that hit his lips knowing that his friend was correct while also wishing he wasn’t so easy for Weiss to read.

“You sly dog,” Eric called, Michael flipping him off and closing the door to his office behind him. Looking at his watch, it was just nearing nine in the morning and their client wasn’t due until nine-thirty. 

He had a sudden and inescapable need to hear her voice. He reached into his pocket and extracted his cell, his thumbs hovering over the buttons.

_ ‘You talked to her last night until like, one in the morning,’ _ his brain reminded him.

_ ‘So?’ _

_ ‘You don’t want to over-call and make her sick of you.’ _

_ ‘Is that a thing? Can that happen?’ _

He paused, the number punched in, but he was now daunted by the green button, the white receiver-shaped icon taunting him. Could he drive her away? He hadn’t thought that to be the case, but now he worried that he was being too clingy. He  _ had _ shown up at her house unannounced.

_ ‘She said you saved her life,’ _ his brain reminded.

_ ‘Whose side are you on? Should or shouldn’t I call?’ _

As if his mind answered, his thumb hit the button.

The phone buzzed on the nightstand, the ringer silenced, and she mentally marked the spot in the book where her eyes left off. Mornings before the boys woke up and evenings, after they were in bed, were her quiet times, and she’d been engrossed in her new book from the first page. Miffed at having to pause, she almost didn’t answer.

_ ‘It could be Michael,’ _ her brain reminded.

Butterflies bounced in her stomach despite the fact that they had talked just the night before, and her eyes moved on their own to see his name flashing on the screen. A bright dimpled smile hit her face and she tossed the book aside to answer.

“Hi,” she said quietly knowing that the moment the boys heard her voice they would be in the room with a dozen questions ready to start their day.

His whole body relaxed and he hadn’t even known he was tense. “Hi.”

“Did you sleep at all? It feels like we just hung up,” she joked.

Vaughn frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t...maybe I shouldn’t have called so soon,” he stuttered, insecurity floating up from his guts into his mouth.

“No! No...no, no. I was kidding. I’m...glad you called,” she admitted.

She heard his sigh of relief. “Good. You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

“No, I was reading. The boys aren’t awake yet so I haven’t been pushed out of bed.” Punctuating her sentence, she snuggled farther down into the blanket.

They shared a moment of quiet as they reconnected. “What are you reading?”

“It’s a book on new teaching practices and ways to engage kids in the classroom.”

“Is it good?” The smile hadn’t left her cheeks, but the genuineness of his question made the dimples deepen as much as they could.

“Yeah. It’s...really, really good. I’m pretty excited to use some of it whenever that happens.”

“Any luck with the elementary school in town?”

“I...decided not to put in over here,” she admitted.

He frowned. “What? You were so excited!”

“I was...thinking of looking...maybe in Albany.” The words eked out slowly, almost one at a time, but it made his stomach flip up and smack his heart, kickstarting his pulse.

“Yeah?”

Sydney grinned at the excitement she heard behind his squeaked question. “I just...I got the money from the sale of the house, so once the debt is paid off I’ll have enough to live for a bit until I nail something down. Besides, rent here is  _ way _ cheaper than L.A..” She realized she was rambling and cut herself off.

“Albany’s...great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe an apartment for a little bit, just to settle in, I don’t know.”

Another lapse filled the conversation as both thought for a moment, Michael picking up the silver coin from his desk and spinning it between his fingers absentmindedly.

_ ‘You can’t ask her to move in with you. You’ve had one date and only known one another for a few months. Deciding not to take some things slow doesn’t mean all things. Settle down.’ _

“I could help you look for places if you want,” he said hopefully.

“If you’re free, I know you’re probably pretty busy.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be too busy for you, Syd.” 

Weiss chose that moment to open the door and waltz in, Michael rolling his eyes at him again as the larger man clasped his fingers together, puckered his lips, and put the back of his hand against his cheek making noisy kissy faces. All Vaughn had was the coin, and it thumped with a metallic pang against the carpeted floor as Eric rubbed his hand over his chest dramatically with exaggerated agony on his face.

Dropping the act, though his smile was wide and his voice light and bouncy, “Johnson’s here.”

Vaughn looked to his watch seeing that their client had arrived about six minutes early. Always a good sign, and he shouldn’t have been, but he was annoyed.

“Two minutes,” he mouthed.

“Gimme the phone,” Weiss ordered, moving to his side.

“What? No! Two minutes!”

“Is that Eric?” Her voice popped into his ear, the man whom she inquired managing to work past the one-handed slaps being sent his way to snatch the phone.

“Hiya, Syd!”

“Hi, Eric,” she laughed. 

“Look. Ditch him, okay? He’s a loser,” he whispered loudly and obnoxiously into the phone. “You can do better,” was hollered in a rasping false whisper as Michael wrested the device from his hand and glowered with ire-filled emerald eyes.

“I gotta go, okay? Can I give you a call later today? Or...or you call me when you’re free?”

Sydney was still laughing on the other end, “you call me. I don’t have a job, I’m much more...free to talk.” Rolling her eyes at her word fumble, she blushed when he called her on it with a laugh.

“I’m not sure that was a proper sentence, Miss. English Teacher,” Vaughn joked, a smile bringing out the dimple on his cheek.

Eric gagged with fake revulsion. “Ugh, you’re disgusting. Say you love her and let’s go,” 

“I’ll call you later. Love you,” he said, almost as if it was a habit, and his green eyes panic snapped to his friend’s suddenly wide brown glare.

Weiss shook his head in a sudden whisper, “you weren’t supposed to say it, I was kidding!”

“Uh...I mean...I’ll...talk to you later,” Michael stuttered and hung up quickly, turning his nervous anger on his co-worker. “Why did you tell me to say it?! Oh my god! I...I  _ said it _ .”

“It’s...fine.”

“I...I didn’t mean to,” his eyes looked plaintively to the cell in his hand. “I’m such an idiot!”

“I know, man.”

“What do I do?”

Eric took the phone from his stunned friend's hand and set it on his desk. “Just...let’s leave that right there, okay, buddy? Here,” his voice was suddenly soft and careful as he adjusted Vaughn’s tie and collar, though they hadn’t been out of place.

“I have to call her back,” Michael said quickly, reaching for the phone only to have his hand slapped away.

“You can’t call her back.” Pulling his friend to face forward, Eric licked his thumb and used the wet digit to smooth out Vaughn’s right eyebrow.

Realizing what was happening, Michael growled and pushed him away to wipe at his face with his palm. “Why can’t I call her back? I  **have** to call her back. I can’t...I just...I said it. I have to...uh...”

“You can’t unring that bell. Pretend, right now. You call her back. What do you say?”

He froze. 

“Exactly. You can’t call back and say, ‘just kidding, I don’t love you’. It’s...it’s rung, dude. The bell is rung, and we have a meeting. Can you get your shit together?”

Michael sunk into his chair with a slow nod. “Yeah. Give me a minute.”

Weiss nodded and headed toward the door. Stepping through, he pulled it closed only to stick his head back in at the last minute. “For what it’s worth...you do totally love her, and you’re incredibly adorable about the whole thing.”

“Get out.”

**…**

The man was huge. That was Vaughn’s first thought as he stepped into the room where Weiss and their client were making polite conversation. Standing to give a greeting as well as shake his hand, Michael genuinely felt like his was dwarfed as the man shook it, though the grip wasn’t insanely tight as he’d expected. With fingers the size of bananas and muscled arms threatening to break through the button-up plus-size shirt, Vaughn expected his hand to come out like in the cartoons: a crushed, throbbing purple with mangled fingers begging to be fixed.

“Mister Johnson, I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“Jim, please,” he corrected with a polite ask, his voice rattling the hanging light above with the bassy timbre. Eric continued as Michael set a thick folder on the table and closed the door.

“As I was explaining, we’re going to ask a lot of questions, some you’re going to like some you aren’t, but we need to get to the core of this whole mess to determine how we’ll proceed. Please don’t take offense to anything we ask, it’s just...part of the job.” The pleading tone behind Eric’s voice was desperately implying,  _ ‘please don’t punch us in the face if we make you mad.’ _

“Sure. I...I understand. I’m hoping that you’ll be able to give me more information about everything. I still don’t really know much and it’s led to some sleepless nights if you know what I mean.” 

The group sat around the table, Michael grabbing the first piece of paper from the folder.

“It might sound repetitive, Jim, but could you give us your statement? I know you met with Mister Weiss already and gave him a run-down, but I’d love to hear everything in your own words.”

“Sure...yeah.” The massive man took a deep breath, Vaughn wondering what magical force of will was keeping the buttons over his chest from popping as the too-tight, brand-new shirt stretched when his chest expanded.

“I was at work, I’m a - a foreman with a construction company out of the city. We’re building that new storage warehouse up on 15th Street.” He paused, both men nodding that they were aware of both the location and that construction was taking place, “and two cops came in and said I was under arrest.”

“Did they give a reason?”

“They said it was domestic violence. Which is crazy because I’ve been living up here in Albany for like, a month and a half doing this project. I’m not dating anyone, ya know? And if I was, I sure as hell don’t get violent with anyone.”

Weiss nodded, Michael jotting that down on his notepad. “But you have in the past, haven’t you?”

The first sigh, and likely not the last, warned Michael that he was poking. Eric wanted to remind Jim of their intention, but couldn’t do that every time a difficult question was asked, so they took in the man’s barrel-chested sigh and waited for his response.

“Yeah. Back when I was a dumb kid, I did some dumb things. But check the record and you won’t see anything more than a parking ticket since I was twenty-four years old. Plus, I did my time for that. Every last minute.”

Vaughn met his brown eyes and seeing the caution flashing behind his intense stare, but matched it with his own and hoping he was exuding as much kindness he could muster. It must have worked.

Jim laughed. “That must be one of those questions I wasn’t gonna like, huh?“I knew better than to ask what the hell they were talking about. I mean, I have priors so I know how my rap sheet makes me look, college graduate or not.”

“Did they give you any more details once you were taken to jail?”

Jim shook his head, wobbled it a bit, and then shrugged. “All I got out of ‘em was domestic violence with possible children involvement.”

Michael looked straight into his dark brown eyes. Under the brow hooded by frustration he saw the rage in the glare, though Jim’s body wasn’t projecting anything other than respectful calm. Those eyes, however; behind those eyes was a raging storm, and Vaughn wanted to tap into that storm. He couldn’t know the man without that experience.

“How long were you at the jail?”

Jim sighed, “a few hours. The guys on my construction team put together the money for bail. I was sitting in the waiting room to get my stuff from the locker when Mister Weiss came in with a box of donuts and some coffee. The cop at the desk pointed me out. Do...do you think you can help me?”

Vaughn looked to his partner and Eric immediately dove into his worry. Shifting in his seat, he placed his elbows on the table and nodded behind hooded eyes.

“So you weren’t given any other information.”

“No, sir,” the man’s booming voice hummed low.

“It was your ex-wife that brought the charges against you, Mister Johnson.”

That prompted a reaction. It was small, but Michael was studying the man’s response from the top of his head to his folded hands now tightly squeezed together. It was tight enough to lighten the color of his massive knuckles.

“That doesn’t surprise you.”

“No,” he growled. “I...don’t have a great relationship with my ex. Hell, I didn’t have a great relationship with her when she was my wife. She’s done some crazy things, you know? But...I’ve never hit her. I swear it. I...I haven’t seen her for over a month. I dropped my kids off the last time I had them, and she didn’t even come out to the car. I saw her boyfriend through the front window of his new house and that’s all. I didn’t even go in.”

Vaughn nodded, opening the folder and pulling out two photos. “This is your ex, correct?” Sliding it across, another followed, “and her boyfriend?”

Confirming with a frown and a nod, Jim didn’t give them a second look. 

“How long were you married?”

“Uh...eleven years.”

Jotted note. “You said you didn’t have a great relationship. Why get married?”

“My...uh,  _ our _ oldest is nearly ten. We were one of those couples that stayed together for the kid.”

“Having a second kid would imply that things weren’t that bad.” Internally, Michael winced at the way he’d formed the suggestion. He’d thought about it before asking and decided that it was the most abrasive way to prompt a response.

He wasn’t mistaken. The folded hands unfolded, one moving to rest palm-down on the thick thigh causing the elbow to jut out at an angle. Jim leaned forward just a bit toward the young lawyer. Vaughn stood his ground and met him eye to eye with one leg folded loosely over the other, one hand resting in his lap while the other took notes on the table. It was an open stance that showed he had all the cards and knew it, but was also willing to share what he had.

“She was still my wife. We may have fallen out of love with each other, but we still liked each other. But yeah, we had Erika a few years later; she’s almost seven. They were the best part of anything I had with Samantha. Putting up with her was worth it because of my babies.” Relaxing his pose, he leaned back against the chair but didn’t refold his hands. He did, however, keep them in view with one tree-trunk of a forearm on the table and the other still resting on his thigh.

“I’m sure you know what I’m going to bring up next, Jim.” 

Another deep sigh. “The domestic violence reports.” At the nod, the man continued. “Look at the records. Charges were never filed.”

“They’re still your records. This establishes a pattern, and I need you to explain them to me.” 

Michael knew they’d been nullified, but they were still officially part of his record. The first instance noted that it was  _ he  _ that bore the bruises, not her. Her side-hustle had started the fight, she’d gotten in the middle to stop them and was knocked down. Jim went to help and the guy sucker-punched him. 

“The first report was filed by a guy she was seeing. He-”

Michael interrupted, “while you were married?” He saw Weiss wince from the edge of his vision.

“-he wanted her to go home with him,” Jim swallowed, side-stepping Vaughn’s interjected question. “She called me to come get her, they were both drunk, and I did. The guy tried to start a fight and she got in the middle to stop it and got knocked down. So I shoved him, picked her up, put her in the truck. That was it.”

“And the second one?”

The second instance was much the same. Wanting to avoid a similar night spent in jail as the last time, Jim grabbed her arm and put her into his truck to take her home in an attempt to avoid a fight altogether. The side hustle, a different side hustle, called the cops saying he’d “almost pulled her arm off” and “lifted her off the ground” and “threw her into the vehicle so hard her head hit the roof”. Lack of bruising and evidence got him out of that one, along with his statement  _ and _ hers denying the report.

“Look, man, like I said - I know how my record looks. I know that will make this an uphill battle, especially if we get one of the judges that hits hard when it comes to DV. This is happening here in Albany and not in NYC, and I know that it’s rarer up here. I did research; as much as I could, I researched what my odds are, and I know they aren’t great. I...I need help, Mister Vaughn.”

The tightness to his voice elevated it above the baritone sound that was becoming familiar, and both lawyers heard the change. As tough a youth as Jim Johnson had been at twenty, the man had done very nearly everything right since that point. Michael changed everything in an instant. Setting down his pen he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Whether or not the client realized, Michael was submitting with his posture, showing that the power in the room lay not with him, but elsewhere.

“Can I be straight with you, Jim?” 

_ ‘Shit...here we go,’ _ Weiss thought as he tried to tamp down the worry that his teammate would get punched in the face. It had happened before, but never by anyone  _ this _ big. Michael’s first round of questions was brutal, today notwithstanding, but it had been a while since he’d done the ‘lull into a false sense of security to hit them where it hurts’ routine. Still, it always extracted the truth. How their potential client responded to prosecutorial questioning meant to goad and get a reaction was the difference between knowing someone was innocent or not. 

“I’d appreciate someone bein’ straight.”

Pulling out a third photo and wincing despite the fact that he’d seen it a dozen times over the last few days, he knew that the bruises on the child’s chest and neck would always be hard to see.

“I…” he paused with a frustrated sigh, “I need your explanation, Jim,” he said in a suddenly hard voice that contained more than a hint of blame, his fingers sliding the photo across before he rested back over his legs.

The look of horror that hit the man’s face was the answer, and despite it all, Michael was relieved. A visceral reaction shot like lightning from the furled and creased brow to the large, newly-shaking hands. Jim couldn’t even bring himself to  _ touch  _ the photo, and the tears that welled behind the stoic and wounded brown eyes fell in ribbons down his cheeks. Shock gave way to sadness which parted the sea for rage, and while anyone else would have flinched, gasped, or begged for mercy when the meaty hand grabbed the front of their shirt at breakneck speed, Michael held his ground and kept his eyes focused on the watery glare.

“I know,” he said softly, reaching up and patting the newly broken man’s wrist. “I know.”

As suddenly as it had bunched the fabric of the shirt and tie the hand was gone, the grip replaced by a strained voice apologizing as the palm smoothed out the wrinkles that had been forced into the material. Reaching and taking his hand to sandwich between his own, Michael nodded.

“Here’s what we need. We need timelines, alibis, anything that’ll poke holes in their claims.” Seeing the sudden want to start immediately shine on the man’s face, “and that’s going to take a few days. We’ll get you a list of what we need; names, dates, signatures. We’ll set a meeting with their lawyers and handle some behind the scenes things and get all of the files they’re obligated to share. If they’re looking to throw the gauntlet, we’ll compile evidence that the children, when last seen with you, didn’t look like that.”

“Is...was that really, Jimmy?” The emotionally strangled question came as Michael turned it over and pulled it back to slide back into the file. While it didn’t show the child’s face, the man knew exactly which of his two kids bore the marks.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I really am. We’ll take care of the next steps today and give you a call tomorrow to arrange things. Will that work?” Standing and holding out his hand waiting for an acceptance shake, Jim looked up at the sure green eyes and gentle crooked smile with confusion and concern shadowing his features.

“Don’t...don’t you need my statement saying I didn’t do it?”

Weiss’s laugh broke the tension, and he stood before moving around to help the man out of the chair and straight into a bear hug. “We know you didn’t do it, Jim. Now we get to prove that to a judge”

“I didn’t even have to ask the hard questions that probably would’ve gotten me punched in the face,” Vaughn chuckled, wincing at the excited and tight grip of Mister Johnson’s handshake that squashed his fingers together.

“Thank you,” he said enthusiastically before repeating the phrase nearly ten times with an emotional booming rattle. 

Walking the man through to the lobby and out the front door, another ten thanks were given as the three laughed and said their farewells. 

“Alright. Let’s do this. Do you want to call the lawyers together? Have you already?” Michael almost skipped back to his office, his soul feeling light and airy. When Weiss didn’t answer, he turned and saw him standing down the hall with his arms crossed over his chest wearing a grimace. “What?”

“You’re not gonna like it, but you’re in such a good mood I kinda don’t want to tell you. I’ll call ‘em.”

Michael felt the excitement drain and knew instantly why Eric was being so hesitant. “Oh shit,” he growled, his arms flopping down dejectedly to his sides as his shoulders slumped.

“Yeah. Miranda’s team is on this one.”

**…**

Vaughn paced his living room with the cell clutched in the palm of his hand. It was just past eight at night, the lamps casting a low glow across the large room, and his feet slapped against the hardwood as he moved. The sound disappeared when he hit the edge of where the carpet started just below the stairs to the upper floor office and bedrooms, and on what was probably his tenth pass, he flopped down onto the second or third step with a resigned sigh.

_ ‘You promised you would call,’ _ he internalized.

‘ _ Yeah, I did. Then I stuck my foot - no...my  _ **_leg_ ** _ into my mouth.’ _

_ ‘Maybe she didn’t notice?’ _

Even his subconscious didn’t believe that. He heaved another sigh.  _ ‘I’m going to push this button, she’ll answer, and I’ll hear her say that things aren’t working out because I moved too fast. Hell, I was the one that wanted to go slow. Where is the guy from Friday?’ _

“Might as well get it over with,” he grumbled and his thumb hit the green icon, the familiar trilling in his ear making his stomach jump with each burst of sound.

Sudden cacophony made him flinch and pull the receiver from his ear. Both kids were hollering, one a high pitched scream and the other something akin to adorable, angry badgering, and her voice came through with exasperated speed, “call you back,” right before the line went dead.

“What the hell was  _ that _ ?”

‘ _ She answered. Even in the middle of whatever that whole thing was...she saw your name and answered.’ _

The pacing restarted and he felt the butterflies of nervousness in his stomach. Just because she answered doesn’t mean she didn’t have choice words about his choice words. Michael’s imagination was running rampant and there wasn’t much he could do until the device he held like a lifeline rang.

Thirty agonizing minutes later it rang and startled him on a pass of the couch. The suddenness made him jump, the phone slipping from his hand and falling to the floor with a clattering slide. He watched with wide eyes in stunned silence as it slid across the wood and disappeared beneath the sofa perpendicular to the one he was now climbing in an attempt to get it back into his hands.

By the time he lifted the couch high enough to get his arm under and reach, it went silent.

**ONE MISSED CALL**

“Damn it!” The hollered word bounced off the walls as he fumbled quickly through the menu and dialed her back, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow as he put it to his ear, out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she answered, “it’s been a night.” At his panting breaths, “is...everything okay?”

_ ‘Do  _ **_not_ ** _ be honest right now,’ _ the Weiss-voice in his head ordered.

“Yeah! Yeah. All good. I left the phone across the house and ran to catch it, but wasn’t fast enough. Sorry about that.” Tipping the receiver end away from his mouth, he calmed his breathing as they shared a quiet moment. “What’s going on? It sounded like war earlier.”

Sydney sighed and snuggled down farther into her blanket, her glare aimed across the hall at the mostly closed door of the boys’ room. “Jake filled Noah’s ear with playdough.”

That was the single strangest sentence Michael had ever heard, and it made him wonder if he’d heard her right. “Filled? With...playdough?”

“Mmhmm,” she confirmed. “Mom had to hold him down while I flushed it out. Just...you know. Kid things.”

More silence made him want to bring up his faux pas from earlier, but he had no idea where to start. She broke the quiet before he found his guts.

“How was your day? You were meeting with a new client, right?”

Her question was genuine and he smiled. “It was good. A little daunting, but it went well.”

“I know you probably can’t give many details, but what does daunting mean? Will it be a hard case?”

Michael nodded and picked through his mind what he could and couldn’t share. “The guy is almost seven feet tall and nearly three-fifty, so when I had to poke him to get a truthful reaction I thought he might take my head off my shoulders. He’s being thrown under the bus and I’m going to figure out why.”

A soft smile hit her face as she remembered her father describing him as a bulldog, and his confidence was reassuring. “Does the ‘poke them to get a reaction’ usually work that way?”

Vaughn laughed. “I’ve been punched in the face before, but I always get information. My first round of questions is always a little brutal, but I set them up that way. He didn’t punch me, and we’re on to the next steps. It’ll be hard, but worth it.”

“Despite it all, that sounds exciting. What about it makes it hard?”

“It’ll be an uphill battle. The guy's ex is saying that he hurt the kids.”

“Did he?”

Though she couldn’t see it, he vigorously shook his head. “No. You should have seen the look on his face, Sydney. He was horrified that I even suggested it.”

They lapsed into a moment of quiet, Sydney contemplating something he’d said. “They weren’t brutal with me,” she said softly.

“What?”

She clarified after realizing she’d spoken in a half-sentence, the first part lingering in her brain before her mouth decided to finish up. “Your questions for me didn’t seem brutal.”

“You weren’t being accused of anything serious like this, Syd.”

She chuckled. “Kidnapping and credit card fraud isn’t serious? I’m glad you’re my lawyer.”

He went quiet for a moment and realized that she was right. He hadn’t hit her with any tough questions. Though his father had mostly been in charge at that time, the Bristow’s one of  _ his _ oldest clients, when Bill had asked him what questions he wanted to add even he had been surprised when Michael had responded with ‘none’. The more he thought about the woman on the plane with two accompanying children and purpling bruises, the less he wanted to accuse her of anything he knew she hadn’t done.

“To be fair, my dad was really in charge of that one. Still...I didn’t think I needed to ask you a hard question,” he said wistfully, Sydney smiling in response though he wasn’t there to see.

“If you had, what would it have been?”

“Nah,” he responded.

“No - seriously. It’s fine, I’m curious now. My dad said you were like a bulldog and I’m wondering what that means. It’s a whole side of you I haven’t seen, but it’s a side that’s important to you.”

A pause hung between them. A dozen questions spun through his head and he hated every single one of them. “Uh...I may have asked something like, ‘were you aware that you had your husband’s credit cards in your purse’.”

“Is...that an example of a brutal question?”

He rolled his eyes. “No,” he groused. “You sure?”

“Go for it.”

“I wouldn’t have meant it, Syd. It’s just a...a trick.”

She frowned at the defensive tone he was already taking. “Why would you need to trick me?”

“Well, I didn’t, but that’s the idea. The question is supposed to tip the client off balance so I can see how they react. Are they defensive? Do they look guilty? Should they have one response but gave another? Things like that.”

Sydney nodded. “Okay. What could you have asked me that would have put me off-balance? I can’t imagine just being asked something that would make me punch someone.”

Michael swallowed. “I...would have asked to,” a sigh, “measure the width of your belt.”

At the memory of the welt and bruise on her son and the insinuation that  _ she _ had put it there, a bout of blinding anger staggered up from her stomach. She knew that had he been there, her palm would have met his cheek. Knowing that she’d goaded the question out of him, she released a deep breath shaking it off, the anger surprisingly dissipating as quickly as it had come as knowledge backfilled with reason. Michael wasn’t like that unless he had to be, and he never had to be with her.

“I’m sorry. I...I never would have asked it, sweetie.”  _ ‘Sweetie?’ _

“I...can see me hitting you in the face for it though. Thanks for...you know...not.”

They shared an uncomfortable pause. “Did I just screw everything up?”

She let out an airy chuckle, “nah, I’m a lot tougher than that. I get how Jim felt. You’re lucky you didn’t get hit.”

Another period of silence wasn’t wholly uncomfortable, but he still rose to begin pacing again. There was no time like the present, especially after he’d already teed up her disappointment with another moment of ‘opening his big dumb mouth’. “Hey, about earlier today,” he started.

“Michael, it’s fine. Don’t...don’t let it worry you.”

“No, I just...I want to clarify things. I panicked...after. I wanted to call you back, but what could I say?”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’ve done it too,” she rationalized, though the flutter of excitement settled back into her stomach. Marching up and pushing aside said excitement was reality. Reality demanded that she understand him having to take it back. Deep down, she knew it had been a mistake and that she shouldn’t have attached so many feelings to a mistake, but she had. The superficial part of her heart ached knowing that he was about to take it back.

Vaughn could hear a tremor in her voice; perhaps it was nerves, perhaps worry, maybe even annoyance, and he realized that she was just as interested as him in what he was going to say. He knew what he  _ wanted _ to say, but what  _ should  _ he say? Were those things so different? ‘ _ What would Jack Bristow tell me to do?’ _

“Do you want me to be honest?” He put the ball in her court, and the moments of silence that followed threatened to swallow him.

“Sure,” she finally responded, though couldn’t keep the hesitation out of her voice. “Yeah. I do,” she followed up with more confidence, but she couldn’t hide the disappointment. They’d agreed not to take things slow in exactly one element of their relationship, and that was at mostly her insistence. Nearly five months of celibacy and a gorgeous man next to her all night hadn’t exactly made her think straight.

“I’ve been terrified since I said it and it’s taken me this whole day to figure out why.” The pause was excruciating. “I - I wasn’t afraid that I’d said it, I was afraid of your reaction. The more I thought about why my worry was so lop-sided, I realized that...I don’t regret what I said, even though it was definitely by accident and way too soon.”

_ ‘He’s being honest, and so should you,’ _ she heard her father’s baritone voice between her ears.

“It’s...been a long time since someone’s said that to me. I mean...someone other than family,” she admitted, a chuckle accompanying as she rose and began to wander around the bedroom. “So at first I was surprised, of course, and I tried to convince myself that you didn’t really mean it, it was just an accident, but,” she paused and Michael held his breath. “The more I tried to convince myself the worse I felt because I wanted you to mean it, even though it was a mistake.”

The pair paced their private spaces unbeknownst to the other as they took time to sort out their thoughts. 

“What if I did mean it but I don’t have a clue what that really means?” The words came out in a rushed heap and he pursed his lips once they were free.

Sydney didn’t speak, but her feet froze and her toes curled into the padded carpet a few times as thoughts raced through her mind.

“Momma?” Jake’s quiet voice came from her doorway yanking her from her thoughts and feelings and back into reality.

“Sweetie, please go back to bed,” she begged, Michael frowning before realizing that one of the kids must have interrupted on her side.

_ ‘Maybe she didn’t hear you? Maybe she didn’t...hear what you said?’ _

“I’m firsty,” the tiny voice complained, and Michael could almost picture little Jake in his pajamas as he’d seen him Saturday morning while he did paperwork in the kitchen of the Bristow home. He’d padded onto the tile with sleepy blue eyes and a wild head of hair, one pant leg bunched around his tiny, bony knee as the other dragged past his toes threatening to trip him with each step.

Jake had convinced him to stop working and do something, and Michael had decided that Saturday mornings were meant for cartoons. The two ended up watching Transformers in a pile of blankets and pillows while eating a bit of watered-down oatmeal in case the boy’s stomach decided to revolt. It was honestly one of the best mornings he’d had in a long time, and his mind slipped farther back to the moment when wakefulness hit him and he felt her warm body tucked into his side, her nose against his throat and hand over his heart.

The sound of running water pulled him from the memory as Sydney’s soft yet stern voice told the little boy to head back to bed.

“Could you tuck me in again?”

She couldn’t say no. “Yeah, come on. One sec,” she said into the phone, Michael assuring her it was fine.

“Lub you, momma,” the tiny voice said.

“Love you too, roo. Have good sleeps,” she said, and there was another pause as she walked back to her room.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” Jack’s voice echoed in the hallway as he peeked out from his office.

_ ‘JUST LET ME HAVE THIS ONE PHONE CALL,’ _ Sydney screamed inwardly, though none of it showed on her face. Pointing to the phone with a grin, Jack held up his hands in apologies and slipped back inside, closing the door behind him to give her as much privacy as possible.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but he laughed.

“I wish I was there,” he said wistfully.

“While it’s probably impossible to get back on track...I’d love to know what you think it meant.” 

She had heard him. “I don’t know. I keep hearing your dad’s voice in my head to just...you know," he left off unsure of the rest of the sentence.

Sydney laughed, “dive in and let your feelings guide you?”

“Yeah!” His chuckle blended with hers. “I mean, don’t get me wrong it’s probably great advice, but god it’s scary.”

“Is that a good thing? Being scared isn’t always bad, right?”

“Yes?” he asked with a laugh, the positive question admitting he was as sure as he was unsure. Making his way up the padded stairs toward his office, the lamp and computer screen giving enough light to guide him toward the comfortable chair, he flopped into it with a heavy sigh.

On her end, Sydney fell back to the top of the bed as hers echoed his through the small speaker simultaneously.

“What the hell,” Michael mumbled, and the nervous fluttering took over her both stomachs. “Trying to convince myself that I haven’t fallen hard for you is pointless, because I have. I know that everyone will say it’s just because it’s shiny and new, but I couldn’t go thirty minutes into my day without hearing your voice. I don’t want to take it back.”

Sydney bit at her upper lip and nodded. “I don’t think I want you to take it back.”

“Maybe I’ll just...change it a little? For now?” It was as if he was asking for permission.

“To what?”

“I really like you, and I miss you, and I...missed waking up to you today.” He paused with a little chuckle. “That...seems really long.”

She laughed with him, “maybe a little cumbersome.”

“Maybe.”

“I really like you too and it  _ was _ hard waking up alone this morning.” she paused, closing her eyes.

“So we’ll just…” he left off, unsure how to finish.

“We’ll just say good night.”

He could hear her smile through the speaker, his own lips kinking at the edges, “and good morning.”

“And...probably good afternoon.”

“Sounds good.”

They enjoyed the resolved silence and she could hear a few clicks of lazy typing.

"Do you have a lot of work still?"

He rolled his eyes.  _ 'Absolutely.'  _ "Nah. Just poking at some documents. We're meeting with the other team of lawyers tomorrow and I want to procrastinate the prep."

"Why is that?"

"They're from the city and are a bunch of sleazy jerks that'll do anything to win, including cheat the system within an inch of the law. Which makes them incredibly popular with certain richer clientele."

Sydney gagged, “still, it sounds important,” she said quietly.

She knew this would end up much the same as the previous night, and from the sound of things, he needed to get work done and sleep before a long day tomorrow.

“Unfortunately, I have to go clean up a lot from playdough adventures and do some laundry. Maybe...this weekend I could come down and we could...look at apartments?”

“That sounds amazing. Wait...will you be bringing Jake?” His mind raced at the fact that his house wasn’t exactly kid-friendly, though the swings embedded in the front yard belied the fact that he didn’t have kids. They’d come with the house and he didn’t have the heart to get rid of them when the neighbor kids stopped by from school to play around on their way home.

Sydney frowned, “uh no...I thought maybe just you and me?”

“I mean, I just,” he floundered again, “I promised he could go on the second date, that’s all. I don’t want to disappoint him. Believe me...I’m already excited about just you and me.”

Her heart blossomed again and had regrets that she’d be ending their phone call early, but he would never hang up if she didn’t. 

“We’ll just promise him it’s not a date.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, the quiet settling between them again. “So...good night.”

“Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, knowing it was the needed push to get him back to work.

“I expect a good morning,” her clear command warmed his heart, and they both knew that just because they had changed the words, the meaning was buried just below the surface waiting for the right time.

“Good night.”

**...**


End file.
